


with one shrug of his trembling shoulders (Atlas abandons the vault of heaven)

by thunderwear



Series: Atlas takes a moment (to watch the cosmos crash around him) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Highwaymen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Lives, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pirates, Princesses, Reincarnation, Rivalry, Rivals to Lovers, Swords, Trans Male Character, he be pining, hes just so dumb, honestly it’s more idiots to lovers, it’s all his fault too, no really keith pines so much in this, okay so there’s actually a lot of angst in this one sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderwear/pseuds/thunderwear
Summary: Keith opened his mouth to reply.Don't be too familiar! Don't let him win this.He thought, trying to keep his face neutral.Keith meant to ask his soulmate his name or maybe just say hello, not rising to the accusation thrown his way.What came out was, "Do I know you?"The story from Keith’s point of view. Can be read as standalone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like the story wasn't completely told without Keith's side.

_Do I know you?_

Keith raced from the room as fast as he could, shoving other cadets out of the way, not worrying about who he pushed past. His heart was pounding, he couldn't breath, his whole body was trembling.

_Do I know you?_

He pushed the door open and was met with the cool nighttime desert air.

_Do I know you?_

Keith ran and ran until his vision was spotty and his lungs were heaving desperately for air. He ran until he finally stumbled over his own feet and collapsed to his knees.

_Do I know you?_

_Do I know you?_

_Do I know you?_

He'd really said said that. He looked his soulmate in those familiar blue eyes, those eyes that had been the same throughout all of the lives they had lived together, and he pretended he didn't recognize them.

_Do I know you?_

This wasn't what he had planned.

Keith cursed himself for never thinking things through, for acting on impulse all the time.

He had been looking forward to finding his soulmate in this life. He'd ached for them. His life so far had been a lonely one, especially for how young he was. He was tired of being alone, and all he wanted was the one person who would always be by his side.

He knew that he needed to be patient. He knew it would happen in due course, but every year that passed, every new town, new school, new foster family, he still hadn’t found them.

Then one day, sitting there in class bored lonely, angry at nothing and everything, something changed. There was a guest speaker that came to his class, a pilot from the Garrison. 

He didn’t really pay the guy any mind at first. Just another recruiter, over enthusiastic and pushy. But something in him made him listen, and the more he listened, the faster his heart beat. The more the pilot talked about the mission of the Garrison, where they were going, the more he realized that he had to go there.

The stars. That’s where his soulmate would be.

He didn’t know how he was going to make it in, but he knew he had to. Then he was approached by Takashi Shirogane himself. It was a surprise, but he wasn’t going to complain.

So Keith, with his breath of a prayer, enrolled in the Garrison, Shiro's recommendation his only chance at getting in.

After months of hard work, Keith had finally made it, though it wasn’t quite as glamorous as he had imagined. But there he was, finally standing in a large room filled with other cadets in that same ugly orange uniform for some stupid meet and greet. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at anyone who tried to meet or greet him.

He didn't have time for the other cadets, he was looking for one specific set of eyes.

Then, against all odd, he found them, and it was like a bolt of electricity shot through him.

There he was.

His other half.

His fated match.

His soulmate.

His soulmate had his arm wrapped around the person sitting beside him, mouth wide open in the middle of the word like he’d paused in the middle of speaking when their eyes met across the room.

There was a beat. Everything inside a keith screaming _There he is!_

Then Keith did something he'd never done before. He looked away, feigning indifference.

As much as he wanted to run up to his soulmate, Keith had a plan. Maybe not a very good plan, but a plan nonetheless. Throughout all their lives, there had been a stupid rivalry hanging over their heads. No matter how many times they’d been born over and found each other’s, they were at odds. Something had to change things between them, to break this stupid rivalry.

You see, Keith had a little secret. A secret that was't very well kept or shocking, and to be honest was cliche.

Keith was desperately in love with his soulmate.

He'd been in love with them for centuries and however romantic and predictable that was, there was one crucial heartbreaking fact that ruined everything. His soulmate wasn't in love with him. In fact, his soulmate was only one step above hating him.

The universe kept shoving them together over and over again and Keith's soulmate insisted that they were destined to be rivals. No matter how many times they were a team, no matter how long they spent at each other's sides, Keith's soulmate made it very clear how he felt about him, and that rivals would be as close as they would ever get.

But there was something there between them. For ages Keith thought that maybe it was just him projecting his feelings onto his soulmate, but there were too many tender gazes. There were centuries of fond looks and gentle brushes of hands. There was an undeniable spark between them and the only thing stopping it was that stupid rivalry.

Understandably, Keith was not satisfied with that. So he had a plan to change things around. He wanted to stop them from falling into old habits.

Keith knew the easy thing to do would be to just confess, but Keith was scared. He knew that if he ruined things between them now, it would mess up what they already had.

Keith's plan was to put a little distance between them. He had decided to not show his soulmate the kind of attention he usually did. He wanted there to be no chance of just continuing things how they'd been. He refused to let any part of that rivalry seep into this life.

So Keith stood there slumped against the wall glancing around the room like every nerve of his wasn't screaming at him to go find his soulmate. He forced himself to keep his eyes on the crowd even when he caught sight of his soulmate bursting from the swell of cadets from his periphery.

There was a pause that felt like it lasted for years before his soulmate spoke.

"This is my dream and you know it!"

And Keith did know it, but he still refused to look over. He was fortifying his will, trying to make sure he wouldn't crumble as soon as he opened his mouth.

His soulmate continued even with Keith ignoring him. "How dare you try to take this from me! I have half a mind to fight you right here, right now!"

Keith struggled not to react as anger swept through him. He wasn't trying to take anything from his soulmate. They were soulmates! They were supposed to find each other. The _nerve_! The _audacity_!

Keith finally turned to look at his soulmate. He was dressed like everyone else in that ugly orange uniform, but it seemed to be a little short for his long legs. He was tall with smooth brown skin and short, messy hair. His blue eyes had a haughty sheen to them and his arms were crossed. He looked about a second away from tapping an impatient foot on the ground.

Keith opened his mouth to reply.

_Don't be too familiar! Don't let him win this _He thought, trying to keep his face neutral.

Keith meant to ask his soulmate his name or maybe just say hello, not rising to the accusation thrown his way.

What came out was, "Do I know you?"

Keith's nails dug into his palms as his soulmate stood there stunned.

Keith shoved himself away from the wall and made his way to a different part of the room so he wouldn't have to look at his soulmate's shocked face.

He tried to slow his breathing as he settled into a corner across the room, but it was like his lungs weren't filling with air.

That's when he rushed from the room and ended up with his knees digging into the desert sand and the stars twinkling down at him.

_Do I know you?_

Keith stayed there until his joins were aching and his lungs stopped heaving.

What had he done? He didn't know how to fix this. This definitely wasn't the plan.

As he panicked, a small part of Keith whispered, "Maybe this can work."

Even if this wasn't the plan, maybe the end result could be the same.

Things were definitely going to change.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith's memories of his past lives were imprecise to say the least. He wasn't very good at big picture kinds of things, and that bled into his memories. He was made up of moments.

He remembered details, colors, faces, the shoes he was wearing, the smell in the air, the weather, but for some reason, he could never remember where he'd been or how he'd lived, what he’d worked as. He could picture things like his mother’s hand as she kneaded dough, but not remember how many siblings he’d had. 

It was like trying to remember being a little kid. There are vague feelings, and some moments are crystal clear. You can remember what the girl down the street was named, but you have no idea what any of the houses on the street looked like.

It's the memory of the gravel underneath your best Sunday shoes, but not remembering who's hand you were holding. It's picturing that ride to the hospital in your mother's lap as she holds a towel to your bleeding head, but not remembering what car your family drove for ten years.

There are flashes of memory, accurate, sharp like they just happened, and there are fuzzy recollections that may or may not be imaginings.

There are some things, though, he remembered completely without fault. Well...some people. One person.

His soul mate.

He always remembered his soulmate. And it was lovely. Those eyes followed him from life to life as a constant companion, there no matter what. It would never get old.

In his first life, he can remember bits and pieces. He remembers the night before he was sent away.

Her parents had taken her at a fairly young age and left her in the care of a tall woman with hard lines around her eyes.

He could remember with total clarity the feeling of his mother wiping a tear from his cheek the night he left. He couldn't remember where they were or what his parents did for a living. He couldn't remember if they were poor or rich, but he remembers the priest telling his parents to give her to the temple.

He couldn't remember how old he'd been, but once the deed was done, he never went home again.

He remembers feeling bitter. Her parents had left her there in some place with some stranger because some old guy told them to.

He also couldn't quite remember how his life at the temple had gone, but some things were clear. 

She always wore light blue clothes that were itchier than they had any right to be. She tripped on the hem of her garment all the time, but she was always scolded when she tried to hike it up when she walked around town.

He can't remember what her role was in the temple, but he remembers that she got lots of stares from people around town.

They called her beautiful and a goddess, they whispered vile things at her when she passed them on the road and made rude gestures that she wasn’t quite sure of the meaning other than knowing that they were dirty. She did her best to ignore them like the head priestess told her to, but her temper was always simmering under the surface.

Most people didn’t touch her, which she was forever grateful for. They left her alone because as a temple maiden, she was under the protection of the gods, but some didn't care. She still got jeers on the streets and the occasional grabbing hands.

She cursed the fact that, as a temple maiden, she was prohibited from violent acts, because she had violence written into her heart every time someone reached out and laid a hand on her. It’s not that she was afraid of breaking the rules, she was more afraid of the priestess’ punishments, and these pigs weren’t worth her getting beaten.

Some days, especially when she was walking alone, she would choose to just duck out of sight when she came across certain men just so that she could avoid them and get on with her day. It worked most of the time, but it was hard to hide with the color of her garments announcing to everyone her status as a temple maiden set apart from everyone else. It made her easy to spot in crowds.

Still, even with the few who were dumb enough to try something, they never really scared her. She was strong, pretty large for a girl, and they were usually drunk. She was confident in her abilities to fight them away.

One man in particular, though, sent fear rushing through her. She just couldn’t trust the dark look he sent her way. He wasn't from their town, that much she knew, and he looked mean, with his angry scowl and his arms as big around as she was. He didn't seem to respect the claim that the gods had over her, but he never did anything more than brush a hand over her arm or make her pick up things he had dropped.

And then, one day, things changed.

She was walking near the cliffs at the edge of town escaping her duties when a hand shot out from between two buildings and pulled into the alleyway before she had a chance to react. The grip was strong and impossible to break, and when she caught sight of who had gabbed her, twin jolts of fear and anger shot through her. It was him.

She twisted and turned her arm to try and get free, but suddenly there was a hand covering her mouth and the press of another body behind her. She realized with a start that he had someone with him.

She tried to remain calm, but her heart beat faster than she knew it could, so without thinking, she reached up with her hand and knocked the man in front of her in the face as hard as she could. She was strong and just about as tall as he was, so it sent him sprawling backwards.

She ducked under the other man's arm before either of them could recover from her sudden move. The man's elbow caught her in the side of the head, but she ignored it.

The only way that they weren’t blocking was towards the beach, so she took off. It was likely to be abandoned so no one would be around to help, but she prayed that she could outrun the men. If it had been just one of them, she could probably fight them off, but both seemed impossible.

She sprinted as hard as her legs could carry her. When the ground turned to sand, she had trouble keeping her footing, but she just kept on, even when there were shouts behind her getting closer with every second.

Her knuckles were aching, and there was blood dripping from her forehead streaking into her eyes, but she ignored it all as she rounded the cliffs and made it onto the beach.

She had intended to keep running, but she caught sight of a pair walking along the shore and came to a halt. Standing here was a tall woman dressed in expensive-looking, flowing clothing staring at her. As quick as anything, the man accompanying her jumped to the ready with a hand at his sword. His armor was marked with the king's insignia, and she felt her heart leap with hope as the woman said, "Do you need help?"

Before she could do anything, however, the men rounded the cliffs and were on her in an instant.

A strong hand grabbed her around the waist, and he yelled, "This will teach you your place!"

She refused to go down without a fight, growling and scratching, but her arms were pulled behind her back so hard that her bones ground together and it felt like something might break. She struggled but the angle made it impossible for her to escape.

She howled and the woman shouted, "Stop it! Leave her alone! Don't you know who she is?"

Who was this woman who was so willing to help?

The two men scoffed. "Stay out of this, little girl, or you're next."

Her heart leapt in her chest, she couldn't let this woman get hurt because of her. So as they laughed, she caught the man's arm between her teeth and bit down until the skin broke and her mouth was filling with blood.

His grip loosened, and she wriggled free just to let out a curse as her feet struggled to find purchase on the sand. She landed with a jolt on her hands and knees and braced herself for the men to be on her once again.

She breathed hard and heavy, once, twice. On the third breath she looked up to see the guard, tall and strong, with his sword drawn standing in front of the men, keeping them back.

She felt their eyes rove over her, but she knew they were cowards at heart. It didn't take long for them to turn tail and leave her there.

She sat there in shock for a moment and suddenly, the woman was kneeling by her side, grabbing her hand to examine her bleeding knuckles.

As she looked at the soft, uncallused hands cradling her bloody knuckles, the pieces fell together. The king's guard, the commanding tone, the expensive garments. This was the princess.

She looked up to meet her eyes, and ended up even more shocked.

It was like the world stopped turning. Such a feeling rushed through her, it was like an emotion that could only be described as fate washed over her. Like there was a giant sign above this woman's head pointing to her shouting aloud that she was important, that they were destined for each other.

Then, as the feelings started to ebb, she realized with a sinking feeling that no matter what she was feeling, there was no way that she could leave the temple. This woman, this princess was bound to the kingdom like she was bound to her god. Fate had to be wrong here, there was some kind of mistake.

Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming rage sweep through her. Why would the gods send someone to her like this when they knew there was no hope for them to stay by each others sides? Was this some kind of cruel trick? A test to see if she would break the vow she’d made to her goddess? Whatever this game was, it made her equal parts anguished and furious.

She pulled her hand away with a growl and stood to her feet.

"I don't need your help," she said. She was still sore and embarrassed from having been chased by those men, and it did not help her mood.

She heard a call from behind her. "Please let my guard and I escort you back to the temple."

She paused. She knew in that moment that if she turned around now without settling her resolve, she would break her vow to the goddess and defy her dedication to the temple.

She took a shaky breath and said, with all the strength she could muster, "No."

There was an offended noise behind her. "Why not?"

She smiled. The princess seemed so thrown by her refusal and that was amusing in some measure, but still she kept walking. It would be better to just put some distance between them.

"Well, you can't stop us if we just so happen to be going into town to visit the temple."

She was resolved, as much as that feeling of fate settled into her stomach, she knew what had to be done, and she sent a glare over her shoulder.

"Leave me alone."

Suddenly the princess was by her side, and she clenched her fists at her sides to keep from reaching out to her. That feeling of fate still thrummed beneath her skin and it was hard to ignore.

"You can't tell me what to do, I'm the king's daughter."

She jolted to a stop. So her suspicions were correct. Of course. Here was the king's daughter. Fate was telling her to ignore her vows and chase after an impossible target.

Though, maybe she could just let them walk her there, just to stay at this woman's side just a little longer. She was just weak enough to not refuse another time. "I guess I can't stop you." She hoped her voice didn't betray the way her heart leapt in her chest.

As they walked into town, the princess chattered the whole way. She talked with bright eyes and fast-moving hands, keeping up the conversation by herself with an ease most people do not possess.

Even with the easy conversation, it wasn't hard to tell that the princess was growing more and more annoyed at her lack of response. She wanted to reply, she knew they would get along famously, everything was telling her that she could fall in love with this girl more easily than she drew breath into her lungs, but she didn't let herself.

She knew that it would be foolish to build a life on breaking a vow to her goddess. Not only foolish, but without a doubt ending in tragedy. To defy the gods like that was just asking for misfortune. 

So she just stared longingly at the princess's back as she stormed off. She smothered a soft, smitten smile behind her hand and walked into the temple.

She saw the princess around often. They didn't speak again, but those blue eyes were haunting her. She tried not to encourage the princess, wary of heartbreak, but she couldn't help but glance back at her every time she saw those eyes staring at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys it looks like I'm going to do a side by side of the story from keith's point of view. this may take a while because I'm in the middle of another big writing project, but i hope you like this  
let me know if you enjoyed it


	3. Chapter 3

His name was Lance Mclain and he was so pretty.

Keith was in hell.

Everywhere he went, those eyes followed him. He could feel them on the back of his neck in the hallway, behind him in class, everywhere. He tried his hardest to ignore them, but it was impossible.

He had to just pretend they weren't there, though. He knew the second he gave in, the instant he returned that gaze, he would be done for. He wouldn't have the willpower to keep it up.

So Keith walked around, gloomy, sullen, lonely, glaring at everyone who tried to approach him. He knew he was being childish, but he dug himself a hole and he was going to sit in it and pout.

He knew that an easy solution would be to just admit what he'd done to Lance, but he couldn't bring himself to. He knew that this, what Keith had done, would just make him mad. The only end result from that he could see was the rivalry would get ever more intense, and this time it would be his fault.

He thought about maybe approaching Lance, making friends with him while pretending he didn't remember him. But he didn't really know how. Things had always had an ease between them that Keith had destroyed in those four short words.

Lance wouldn't want to be his friend anyway. Keith knew what everyone thought of him, he'd heard all the rumors going around. Everyone saw him as arrogant, rude, unapproachable. And he couldn't deny it. He wasn't here to make friends, to play nice. That wasn't how he worked, and it made it impossible for him to seek out friends. Or at least it would if he tried.

Keith had resigned himself to waiting for him and Lance to interact more over their time at the Garrison. Maybe eventually they would form a friendship, although that was unlikely seeing how Lance glared at him like he wished Keith was dead, and Keith ignored Lance every time he tried to talk to him.

Keith's only other option was to wait it out, really wait it out. Until the next life and play it off like a fluke. But that made him so upset that he tried not to think about it, the thought of not being close to his soulmate until the next life hurt in ways that he didn't know he could hurt.

The worst part was that he brought this onto himself. His own stupid mouth had started it and his own stubborn heart kept him from approaching Lance and sorting everything out.

So Keith kept himself fed on stolen glances of Lance's profile and the sound of his laughter in the halls. He was kept grounded by the knowledge that at least those eyes never stopped seeking him out. He could feel them like a touch, always, always on him.

He tried to keep himself busy. He pushed himself into training. Encouraged by the thought of meeting his soulmate finally in the stars, a fleeting dream of them getting put on the same assignment, working close together, forced to interact. With his one track mind, he ended up being a pretty good pilot. A really good pilot, in fact. Shiro's recommendation hadn't been wrong. 

The only problem was that every time he did well in a simulation, scored the highest on a test, got a "good job" from an instructor, he could feel Lance getting more and more angry, more jealous. Those eyes followed him, no doubt thinking only of their rivalry.

He would step out of the simulator feeling proud, scanning the cadets around for just one glimpse of those eyes, and Lance would be there, visibly fuming, spouting off about how he could do better.

So Keith studied and he trained and refused to make friends and he tried not to collapse under the weight of his loneliness.

He was dealing with it.

Or at least he thought he was.

"Are you doing okay?" Shiro asked one day after training.

Keith paused where he was drinking from his water bottle. "What do you mean?" He knew exactly what Shirp meant, he just didn't want to admit it. He was slipping, but it was fine.

Shiro sighed and moved to sit down beside Keith. Shiro had this habit of sighing really loud when he shifted into older brother advice mode, and it made Keith start to fidget with how much he did not want to have this conversation.

"I'm worried about you," Shiro said.

Keith didn't look at him as he took another sip from his water bottle, but it seemed like Shiro wasn't going to say anything else until he'd gotten a reply.

"I'm fine. My grades are good, and I'm top in the simulators every time. Nothing to worry about."

Shiro put his hand on Keith's shoulder to make him look up from where he was studying his fingernails.

"Keith, I'm going to be leaving for Kerberos soon, and I want to make sure you're going to be okay. I-" He cut himself off and made a face like he didn't know how to say what he wanted. "You probably don't want to talk about it, but I know you don't have a lot of friends here."

Keith scoffed. "I don't have _any_ friends here," he said and then instantly regretted it when he saw the look on Shiro's face. He tried to do some damage control. "And that's how I like it. I don't want any distractions." That was just a flat-out lie, but that's where Keith was.

Shiro looked sad, and for some reason it made Keith want to cry. It made him want to blurt everything out and get some small comfort of not being completely alone in this. He didn't, though. He didn't want Shiro to not believe him and think he was crazy. Or worse for him to believe him and think he was an idiot.

"Keith, I know you have trouble with these kinds of things. I know it's always been you against the rest of the world, but I don't want you to be completely on your own while I'm gone."

Keith didn't know what to say so he just shrugged. He didn't want that either, but he didn't know how to fix things. He didn't want to make other friends, he just wanted to talk to his soulmate, but he'd screwed that up.

Shiro looked at him, really looked, and Keith wilted under the pressure.

"Fine, I'll try," he muttered. He didn't really plan on trying, but he wanted Shiro to drop it.

Shiro sighed one last time before pushing himself to his feet.

Keith stayed there for a little while just thinking. Maybe he could try to just live his life. Make friends, have fun, be a dumb teenager. He'd never been this completely untethered before.

But then he knew he wouldn't be able to, not here, not now. He'd already set himself up as someone to avoid. He was bad at making friends, so the fact that everyone here hated him would not help his case.

Maybe he should stop pushing everyone away.

As he got to his feet and stalked from the room, he resolved to be different. Be less prickly. Take Shiro's advice.

He wasn't very good at it, but it turns out that it didn't matter anyway.

It didn't matter because the Kerberos mission went wrong. Shiro went missing. Keith stopped caring.

It was one too many blows for his already fragile state of mind.

He didn't have a family, he didn't have any friends, he didn't have his soulmate, and now he didn't even have Shiro.

The weeks after Shiro went missing were mostly a blur.

The other cadets avoided him in the hallways, shooting pitying looks over their shoulders at him. He stopped going to classes, stopped training, stopped flying. He lashed out at the other instructors who tried to talk to him, and he may or may not have thrown a punch.

In the end, he holed himself up in his room and hid under his desk. It was a habit left over from when he was young, hiding until he was ready to face the world. He sat curled up underneath his desk, not eating, not sleeping, not talking for what felt like days, until he was numb from sitting in the same position for too long. Everything hurt and all he could think was that he was really, truly alone.

When he finally pulled himself out, Keith found himself standing outside Lance's dorm room. He didn't remember getting up or walking there, but that's where he stood, hand raised, ready to knock. He just hadn't quite worked up the courage to yet.

He was so desperate. He needed something, someone, and Lance was literally the only person in the world who he had left. Although, would he really even have Lance after he knew the Keith remembered? If he knew Keith had been lying this whole time?

Keith took a shaky breath and prepared to knock, his hand tensing, but then he dropped it away. He pressed his forehead to the door and let himself tremble.

He hadn't cried since Shiro had gone missing. It was like he had been numb, but in this moment, so close to his soulmate, his lip trembled as his vision blurred, and when he squeezed his eyes shut he felt tears start dripping down his face.

_Pathetic._

He'd done this to himself. This was literally all his fault.

He didn't even deserve to have Lance deal with him right now. How could he go to Lance now and dump everything on him and still expect to him to care.

After months of ignoring him.

After pretending not to recognize him and brushing off everything he said, every challenge, every glare sent his way.

Keith took another shaky breath and breathed out what was more of a sob than anything. Then he pushed himself away from the door and ran away. Like a coward.

He hid his face in his hands so that no one would see that he was crying, and because of that, he wasn't looking where he was going. He bumped into someone in the hall, and it sent him stumbling backwards. He caught himself before he toppled completely over, but he still didn't raise his head from his hands.

"Oh, sorry dude, I wasn't--hey are you okay?"

Keith scrubbed a hand over his face but didn't look up.

"I'm fine," he growled before making his way around the person and continuing down the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder to catch a glance of Lance's roommate staring at him with a concerned look on his face.

Keith rounded the corner and was gone.

He walked and then kept walking. He walked until he was running, tears still drying on his face. He ran until he couldn't breathe and kept on running until the Garrison disappeared over his shoulder and the sun was setting behind him. He ran until he was standing in front of that little shack in the dessert, and then he collapsed onto the porch. He pounded his fists once against the wood and then let out an anguished shout.

Now he really was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long guys...i have no excuse
> 
> Also sorry for the angst. it was raining all day so that probably influenced my writing
> 
> tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

In his second life, Keith hadn’t even realized that things he was remembering were from another life until they had already all clicked into place. 

He had these flashes, feelings, specific memories that just felt so natural to him that he hadn’t even questioned them until one day he realized that he was living his second life. 

From this second life, he couldn’t remember his parents, or how long he’d spent on the streets. He remembers being poor, an urchin girl, begging for scraps and stealing when she could. He could remember seeing the ugliest horse she had ever seen, and he remembered cutting all her hair off with a dull blade that she stole.

He can’t remember how long it had taken her to make the journey from where she’d been to that small mountain village, but he remembers that feeling of relief when she knocked on that door.

She’d heard about a great swordsman, best in the land, and she knew that’s where she had to go.

She had all those memories of being in that temple, helpless, strong but untrained, forced to be quiet and not fight back. She refused to let it be like that this time.

With nothing to hold her back, she set out to find that great master and make him train her. He had to. She was willing to learn, able and quick and strong enough to hold a blade. She was smaller in this life, but not too small that it would keep her from fighting.

When she finally knocked on that door, already bowed low in respect, her heart was beating quick and frantic in her chest. In excitement, in fear. 

The door creaked open, and she squeezed her eyes shut rehearsing what she wanted to say, waiting to be addressed. 

“Who are you?” A young voice asked. It was too young to be the master, so she looked up and met familiar eyes.

She was suddenly drowning in that feeling of destiny. Her heart picked up again and she couldn’t look away. He looked just as shocked as she felt, standing there in his open doorway. If she was anyone else, she might have felt inferior standing in front of him and his fine clothes, barefoot in rags, but she just felt some kind of overwhelming joy.

They had a second chance. Here she was, pledged to no god, in front of him, daughter of no king. 

She had a million things she wanted to say and they all tried to force themselves to the front, but the only word that fell from her trembling lips was, “You?”

He nodded slow and reverent, like he was drunk or had just woken up. His eyes were glassy, so overcome with that feeling he couldn’t hold it in, and she knew she was the same. 

“You remember?” He whispered. 

She couldn’t look away from those blue eyes even if she’d tried. They were lovely in her memory and they were lovely now. 

“I do,” she said. “I remember the temple and you on the beach.” She thought back to that day with a fond memory at how persistent the princess had been. “I remember that you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

He made a noise that made her think that she’d offended him somehow, but before either of them could say anything else, a booming voice sounded from inside the house.

“Who is it, boy?”

She heard footsteps, and realized suddenly that it was probably the master. She spared the boy one last glance but he was shoved out of the way as a tall figure took his place.

She shook her head to regather her thoughts and remember the words she’d rehearsed as she bowed low once more. 

“Master, I have heard of your skill with the blade, and I wish to train under you.”

She didn’t look up or raise herself from her bow, even when he barked out a harsh laugh. “You dirty, underfed little thing, I doubt you could even hold a sword, much less learn how to wield one.”

She felt her hackles rising, but she knew she had to keep her composure, be respectful. Lashing out, losing her temper would not make him more likely to listen to her, it would no doubt make him more likely to refuse. She just kept her position, respectful. 

“Master, I have no family and no money to offer you, but I swear to be the most diligent student you will ever have.”

“No money, no family, not even your own sword,” he sneered. She could hear the derision, the disdain from where she was bent over, but she refused to react. She needed this. 

“No. Go to the whorehouse if you really need a profession, or find a husband to marry, but don’t come back here or you will have trouble.”

He slammed the door, inches from where her head was bowed, but she was already resolved to come back. He might be mean, but she was stubborn. She would come back every day for the rest of her life if she needed to.

Even if he never said yes, at least she might be able to talk to that boy again. The boy with the eyes of her princess.

She trudged back into town, hungry, dirty, rejected but resolved, and camped herself in an alleyway to wait out the night. 

When she knocked on the door the next morning, she was more determined than nervous. She bowed low again as the door was opened, and started speaking before the master could close the door back. “Master—”

“He’s not here.” 

She looked up to see that boy again. He was standing there fidgeting with his hands as he looked her over.

She stood from her bow and glanced over him with her eyes, envious of his height, captured by the blue of his eyes. “When will he be back?”

He let out a sigh. “You need to not come back here,” he said, and her heart dropped. “My father will not take kindly to seeing you again.”

She had a million questions for him. Questions about his past life, questions about this one. She wanted to know if he felt that same pull of fate when he looked at her, but then she remembered why she was here. It wasn’t to find him. It wasn’t to know him. She needed to be strong more than she needed to know what this was. She couldn’t encourage the kind of closeness she craved.

“I know you and I have shared history, but I feel no sentiment for you.” Her heart rate picked up when she realized what she’d said, how that sounded, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Nothing you say will stand in the way of me reaching my goal.”

Maybe after the master had accepted her, after she had trained, after she was no longer stuck being helpless, she would pursue him. Maybe one day she would allow them to puzzle through why they’d found each other in a second life. They had time, and she had a goal to take care of first. 

The boy met her gaze with an angry look on his face. “Firstly, I feel the same. You are just as annoying now as you were back then.” She bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something. She needed this distance between them to keep her from getting distracted. “Second, nothing I say may stand in your way, but my father beating you within an inch of your life and kicking you out of the village might.”

She searched his face. He was bluffing. He was trying to shake her off, to make her leave him alone. Trying to get back at her for being so blunt, for telling him she felt no sentiment for him. But the more she searched, she could see in his eyes it was the truth. 

Her hands tightened into fists at her side as she tried to think of a way to get the master to train her.

“I have to learn how to fight and your father is the best. He has to teach me.”

“Please, he won’t,” the boy said. “And as much as I have never liked you, I still don’t want to see what will happen if you keep coming here. Just go.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both of them serious, both intent. Then an idea hit her. 

“You can teach me.”

He jerked back, apparently shocked to hear her suggest that. “Woah now, wait a minute, why would I teach you?”

This was a good plan. She wanted to take back the things she’d said about not feeling anything for him. What a spectacular plan. Of course! This was why they’d found each other again. This was why she’d recognized those eyes. 

“You said you didn’t want to see me hurt, and I refuse to leave this village without learning the sword. If you don’t want to see me back here asking your father to be my master, then you teach me.”

“No,” the boy said before slamming the door in her face. 

Before she could even let out a sigh or slump her shoulders, the door was wrenched open again. 

“Fine, but you have to promise not to tell anyone what we’re doing,” he said with a sigh. “Now wait here while I get you something to eat, you look like you might just wither away to nothing.”

She nodded, overjoyed, too full of so many different emotions to pinpoint exactly what she was feeling.

He poked his head back out the door to say, “And I still don’t like you,” but she was too pleased to really care.

Over the next few months they trained every night.

She would wait at a clearing in the forest until the boy showed up with the blades and sometimes food for her to take with her when they were done.

He was a good teacher. He taught her stances with a practiced ease, moving her feet into place and adjusting her grip on the sword with his own long fingers. Her heart raced every time he gripped her elbows or smiled when she got something right, but she kept it to herself. She still had a goal, she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

Under his guidance she learned fast. She picked up the stances and the swing of the blade faster than she could have ever imagined. It was like her hand was made to hold a blade.

She practiced every night with him and every day on her own until she was more familiar with the sword than she was with anything else.

The first time she knocked the sword out of the boy’s hands, she knew it was luck. They’d only been at it for a month and no matter how natural it was for her, she couldn’t hope to surpass someone who’d trained his whole life that quickly. 

It wasn’t until a few more months had passed and she was able to disarm him in every spar did she really understand that she had an unnatural talent. 

She could tell he was envious. He grew more and more frustrated every time she disarmed him, but he never lashed out, never lifted his hand or raised his voice, never refused to teach her. 

One night as they were training underneath the light of the full moon, both dripping with sweat and grinning from the excitement of it all, she disarmed him like she had been able to for a while. 

Unwilling to end the fight there, to drop this feeling of adrenaline that came from sparring with someone who can hold their own against you, she dropped her own sword into the dirt and lunged at him. 

They rolled around on the ground, both trying to get the upper hand. He was bigger than she was, but she had been in more fights than he had, so she ended up pinning him to the ground underneath her. They both lay there for a second, panting out their exhaustion, laughing like children, trying to catch their breath. She didn’t know if she’d ever get over being this close to him.

Then the boy spoke. “I think you’ve learned all you can from me.”

She laughed a little. She hadn’t thought he would ever admit that she was better than him. She gazed down at him, still lying on the ground under her flushed and covered in dirt. The blue of his eyes shone even in the darkness. “I can see that,” she said, poking him in the forehead, “but where am I going to find a more advanced master?”

The boy sighed and then surprised her by saying, “My father.”

She moved off of him so that they could both sit up. “But I thought you said it was dangerous for me to go back there.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said. “But if I vouch for you, and we show him what you know, he can’t say no.”

The master had said no at first, and she’s been afraid both for herself and the boy for standing up for her. She was determined, though. He tried to send both of them away for disobeying him, but they made him watch as they sparred. Made him watch as she showed her skill against the son he’d trained himself. 

After they’d finished, the boy’s sword thrown to the dirt, the master had taken a long while to look at them before he’d finally agreed to train her. 

He was a harsh master, he yelled and hit, never showing any form of kindness, rough in a way his son had never been. She missed having the boy teach her, with his sure hands and proud smiles. Though, she was happy that he learned alongside her now, every hit they took together, they nursed each other’s sore muscles and kept each other company when they went about their chores. 

They became friends, and sometimes, in the dark of night when she knew that no one was awake to see the blush on her cheeks, she even entertained the thought of them falling in love, of getting married. Every day she fell deeper for those blue eyes and kind hands. She knew that, no matter what he said, the boy didn’t hate her, he may not feel the same as she did, but he didn’t hate her.

She knew his father already had a bride picked out for him, but maybe he would consider her. 

She never got the chance to find out.

There was a siege by some army seeking out the greatest swordsman in the land, wanting to gain the honor of killing him.

There were just so many of them.

They fought hard, back to back, downing enemy after enemy. The only sounds were their panting breaths and the swing of their swords through the air until they both fell.

As they lay bleeding in the dirt, she looked over to where he lay beside her. Tears pricked her eyes as she saw blood seeping from a gash in his chest. 

She reached out a hand and tried to press it to the wound, anything to stop the bleeding, anything to stop what she knew was inevitable, but she didn’t even have the strength left in her body to put any pressure on it. The blood seeped through her fingers, so warm it was almost hot. 

He smiled as he lay a hand on top of hers and laced their fingers together. “I think this is it.”

He turned his head to look at her and she watched as a tear made its way down his cheek. His eyes were still that lovely shade of blue. 

She tried to laugh, but she was having trouble getting air into her lungs. She sucked in enough air to gasp out, “Thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

She tried to take in another breath, but the strength was leaving her. 

“Maybe I’ll see you in the next life.” 

His words were far away. Almost too far to hear. She couldn’t feel his hand on hers anymore, and her vision had gone too dark for her to see his eyes. Her eyes slid shut to the rumble of his voice, echoing words she couldn’t quite hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s another one fellas 
> 
> tell me what you think! 
> 
> <3<3<3


	5. Chapter 5

Keith never really imagined being here.

Sure he’d been a pilot at the Garrison. Not only that he’d been one of the _best_ pilots at the Garrison. He knew he’d been on track to be sent to space, but not this soon and certainly not this way.

He’d spent so long in that desert, alone, hurting, missing Shiro, missing his soulmate that when he’d first felt that draw, that faint thrumming pulling him deeper into the desert, he thought he was going insane. 

Now standing in the middle of a giant castle piloted by aliens, hurtling through space, he still wasn’t completely sure that this wasn’t some sort of crazy delusion. Then again, he didn’t know if his mind had enough imagination to weave together such an elaborate story with a giant blue cat spaceship and an intergalactic war. 

The one thing about all this Voltron stuff that wasn’t making him feel like he was crazy was the fact the Lance was here. It gave him some kind of indescribable relief to be back side by side with his soulmate, back where they were supposed to be. 

There had been an itch under his skin the whole time he’d been in that desert shack, telling him that he needed to go find Lance. Throughout all their lives, even when their rivalry was at its worst, they’d never been completely separated. Going months without seeing Lance left a hole in his chest that was only filled when he’d seen him duck into that medical tent where Shiro was strapped to the table. 

Though, he did regret telling Lance that he didn’t remember him from the Garrison. He’d panicked. He didn’t know how much he should be able to realistically remember about Lance if he’d just been a distant classmate who didn’t stare at his back and obsess over him in secret. Who didn’t remember their lives together. He wanted to play it cool, keep it casual, drop in a “yeah weren’t you in a few of my classes,” but the words that had fallen out of his mouth were anything but, and he did it again, he said he didn’t remember. This time wasn’t as bad, but he still regretted it. 

Other than that, Keith was doing well. He had friends, he had Shiro back, he had some grand purpose now. The only problem was that Lance was ignoring him. 

No, not just ignoring him, Lance was avoiding him. And on a ship with only seven people on it, Lance was really good at it. 

Then everything with Sendak happened. He can remember spending the whole of that mission with his heart in his throat, begging and praying for Lance to be okay.

He would swear that he felt it when Lance got hurt. When that explosion had rocked the castle, he knew something was wrong with Lance immediately. From that point until he was helping Lance to sit up after the fight with Sendak was over, the only thing on his mind had been _Lance Lance Lance._

That calm after the battle was the first time Lance had really talked to him without a snide comment or sneer. 

His smile had been so soft, and Keith couldn’t help but return it. Maybe they could finally get closer, maybe they could push past this. 

When Lance ran out of strength to keep himself up, Keith wrapped his arms around him and cradled him to his chest, reverent, careful, loving. Shiro had offered to take Lance to the healing pods, but Keith waved him off. Lance was lighter than he expected when he lifted him in his arms, but he was still shaking and exhausted by the time they made it to the healing pods. 

Lance had drifted in and out on the way, his hands were resting on his own chest, fingers trailing over Keith’s armor. He was so out of it that Keith doubted he even knew what he was saying. He mumbled about his hair and his eyes and how Keith didn’t remember him. 

He sounded sad, wistful, and Keith bit his lip so hard that it almost started to bleed to keep in any desperate confessions that might have slipped out. 

Lance was out cold by the time Coran had Keith place him in the pod, and when Coran’s back was turned, Keith pressed his lips ever so briefly to Lance’s forehead. 

“I remember you,” he whispered. He said it so quietly that he doubted Lance would have been able to understand him even if he’d been awake. “I remember everything. I remember.”

That night in his room, Keith let himself cry. He curled up on his bed, Lance’s blood still still caked on his armor and he cried, heavy sobs choking out of his chest as he let out all the worry and fear that he’d been feeling wash over him. 

He didn’t hear Shiro open his door, but he let him pull him into his arms and press his face to his shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Lance is fine, everyone’s okay.”

Keith cried until he felt like he might throw up, and when he finally calmed down, words started falling from him mouth. He didn’t really care that Shiro might not believe him, or think he was crazy. 

Shiro sat there and listened as Keith confessed to all of his and Lance’s lives together, of how they found each other again and again without fail. He told Shiro about how he’d pretended not to remember Lance, how he’d brushed him off and ignored him.

“Why?” Shiro asked, still rubbing Keith back. 

Keith didn’t look up, still too ashamed. “It was an accident. I wanted things to change, I wanted the rivalry gone.” He sniffled into Shiro’s shoulder. “I just wanted distance, to make him think about what we were instead of falling into old habits, but in the moment, I wasn’t thinking or I was thinking too much and I just said I didn’t know him.”

He fell silent and Shiro didn’t say anything for a long while. 

“Oddly enough, this explains things between the two of you.”

Keith pulled back and looked at him. “How so?”

Shiro sighed his big brother advice sigh and said, “I’ve never understood why Lance is always trying to get a rise out of you or why you go back and forth between rising to the bait like it’s the most natural thing in the world and ignoring him.” 

“Wait so you believe me?” Shiro hadn’t even hesitated over this convoluted reincarnation story.

Shiro just shrugged. “We’re in the middle of a space war, I have bigger, weirder things to worry about.”

After that night, things got better. Shiro knew, which helped, and Lance was making a swift recovery. 

Then things got a little worse because Lance said he didn’t remember that tender moment before Keith carried him to the healing pod. Keith may have gotten a little over passionate, but he could tell from the look in Lance’s blue eyes that he was lying about remembering.

Then Keith realized that he, of all people, had no room to be offended, so he dropped it. But not without his fair share of pouting. 

Things went uphill from there. The team started working better together completing missions, rescuing planets. They were meshing better together and Lance wasn’t ignoring him anymore. 

However, Keith could tell that something was wrong with Lance. He seemed down, more than being homesick, more than just the stress of being defenders of the universe. Keith just didn’t know how to ask him about it. He didn’t know how to tell lance he’d noticed him acting weird without admitting that he’d been watching him. 

So he just ignored it best he could. 

Honestly, he ignored everything the best he could and immersed himself in training so he wouldn’t get caught up. He ignored every time their eyes would meet, familiar and intimate in away he couldn’t let it be without admitting how he’d lied. He ignored the way Lance watched him when he trained with his sword, ignored the glances Lance shot his way when he said a joke that only they’d be able to understand, ignored the way Lance would stumble over his words, cutting himself off when Keith knew he could probably finish the sentence Lance was about to say. He feigned indifference, even when he could tell it hurt Lance, unable to fix this mistake he’d made. 

The first time Lance called Keith his rival, Keith had spent the rest of the day curled up in the dark of his room under his blanket, trying to hide from everything he was feeling. He had thought that no matter what else was wrong with what he’d done, no matter what distance was between them, at least they didn’t have that rivalry anymore. At least there wasn’ that wall keeping them apart. 

But Keith was weak and he fell into old patterns so easily. He kept it light, tried to keep it friendly, but it was a shadow of the closeness they’d had before and it hurt in a way that almost felt good because at least it was familiar. 

He could see Shiro giving him curious looks when he responded to Lance’s goading, but he ignored that too, desperate for some kind of connection between them. 

It got to the point where they ended a sparring match with Lance tackling Keith to the ground and them wrestling it out. Keith let himself get lost in the familiarity just for a moment before he pulled himself away. 

He saw Shiro pull Lance aside when they were done, and a jolt of fear shot through him at the thought that Shiro might tell, but he knew Shiro wouldn’t, so he left the room. 

He lingered outside the door until Shiro walked out. He patted Keith on the shoulder and Keith stared at him until he admitted to trying to get Lance to cool down on the rivalry thing. 

“Thanks, Shiro, but I can deal with this myself. It’s my own fault anyway.”

Keith stepped back into the training room. He didn’t have a plan or know what he was going to say to Lance, but he couldn’t keep himself away. 

“This is so lame!” Lance said to himself right when Keith walked through the door. 

He was sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, and he looked up when Keith spoke. “What is?”

“What are you doing here?” 

Keith panicked for a second before he just shrugged and pulled out his bayard. “Just some extra training.” It was as good an excuse as any.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Dude, we literally just ended training, why are you training more?”

Keith didn’t know what to say, so he just started walking through the familiar steps. The steps he’d been taught so long ago. For a second it was like he was back in that forest clearing with the moon shining above and those blue eyes watching him lunge and dodge and jab. He could still feel those long fingers brushing over his, adjusting his grip on the sword. 

He could feel Lance’s eyes on him, not looking away, but it didn’t make him nervous, it made him feel alive. 

“Where did you learn to sword fight like that?”

Keith faltered for a second, not expecting the question. Was this a test? Did Lance know? 

He didn’t stop his motions when he answered, too afraid of what he might say if he was looking Lance in the eyes. “I had to take fencing at some weird preppy school one of my foster parents sent me to,” he said. 

It wasn’t a lie, although, he’d only been in that house for all of three months, not really enough time to get as good as he was. “But, honestly, I’ve always been kind of good at it. My teacher called me a natural talent or something.”

Actually, his fencing instructor had called him a disrespectful, arrogant, good for nothing that wasn’t good enough to be going to that fancy school. But he remembered being in that little mountain village and that boy admitting her skill. 

He heard Lance scoff, and Keith turned to face him. Was he calling his bluff? Did he know? “Look, I know you have some sort of problem with me, but this is getting ridiculous.” 

He shouldn’t have said that, but, honestly, he wanted to challenge Lance’s flippant attitude towards him, wanted it out in the open. Then, Lance put his hands up in front of him in surrender, and Keith realised that maybe he had misinterpreted, maybe Lance hadn’t been scoffing at his comment. 

“Wait, I wasn’t making fun of your natural talent or whatever, I just…” Lance paused and took a breath. Keith could never have predicted what the next words out of Lance’s mouth were going to be. “You remind me of someone.”

Keith looked at him, not knowing if Lance was really going to talk about this. “Who?”

Lance closed his eyes and paused for a second, lost in thought, no doubt lost in those memories. Keith waited for him to speak, not wanting to break the moment. “I have a...an old friend who was like you, like, a natural with a sword.”

Keith’s heart was pounding in his chest when Lance patted the space beside him, beconning Keith to sit down. He could barely hear himself speak over the pounding in his ears when he said, “What was he like?”

Lance gave him a playful look that made butterflies start up in his stomach. “_She_ was amazing. She was strong and stubborn and one of the most annoying people I have ever met.” Lance stared off into space, no doubt lost in memories again.

Keith bit the side of his cheek to keep the tears from his eyes, to keep from blurting everything out. The worst part was that Keith knew Lance would never have said any of those things if he knew Keith remembered. It made him almost glad for a second that he was pretending. Then he remembered how miserable they both were and he regretted thinking that. 

“You miss her?” He wanted to know. He _needed_ to know more than anything. 

“Yeah,” Lance said, quiet, like it was a secret. “I never imagined that I would, but I really do.”

Keith fidgeted with his Bayard to hide the way his hands were trembling. “Maybe, I mean, when we get back to Earth, you’ll see her again.” Maybe Keith will have told him by then, or they would have died saving the universe and reborn and Keith could stop pretending, say him forgetting was a fluke. 

Lance looked up to the ceiling, and the look on his face made Keith want to reach out to him. “I can’t. We...um, she died a long time ago.”

Lance didn’t say anything else, but Keith could tell he was upset, so he placed a hand on his arm, hesitantly, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. 

Lance’s eyes met his and Keith’s heart broke when he noticed them filling with tears. He felt so guilty when Lance’s lower lip started to wobble.

“I didn’t think I would be sad, but I can’t help it,” Lance dropped his face into his hands, and Keith mentally kicked himself for the way his heart leapt at the admission that Lance was sad at the thought of losing him. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._ The voice in his head said over and over again.

Keith just pulled Lance to his chest as Lance cried over him. His chest hurt more and more every time Lance’s shoulders shook with a sob, but he was too scared to admit anything. 

“Sometimes...I just...I feel so-so lonely, you know.” Lance could barely get the words out over the hitching in his chest. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._

Keith just held Lance while he cried and rubbed soothing circles on his back like Shiro had done for him. 

When Lance pulled back, his eyes puffy and red, his blue eyes shining, beautiful, all Keith could do was stare. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._

Maybe he could, maybe it would fix this and they could both stop hurting. 

“Lance, I—”

He was interrupted by the door opening and Shiro walking in. 

They both jumped to their feet, the moment broken. 

Keith heard Shiro sigh from all the way across the room. “You better not have been fighting in here.”

“We weren’t!” Keith blurted out, loud, like he was guilty of something. 

Shiro was unconvinced and narrowed his eyes at them. “Good. I just came in here to make sure Keith wasn’t still training. You need to make sure you get rest.”

Keith knew he was lying. He probably came here because he knew Lance and Keith were here together and he was too nosy for his own good. 

Keith shot one more glance at Lance, still puffy eyed and trying to subtly wipe his face. 

The voice inside him was still chanting at him to tell, but Keith pushed it down as he left the room. 

Maybe another time, maybe there would be another opportunity. 

Another small part of Keith was telling him to keep it in. Things were already changing, he and Lance were getting closer. When would Lance have ever been vulnerable with him like that, admit that he missed Keith? Maybe he could keep it to himself and see where it led.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys my whole reasoning behind why keith says such mean things is that he has never once thought before he speaks it just falls out of his mouth before he has time to edit and then he has to deal with the consequences 
> 
> here’s another one. i had time so i’m getting in another update 
> 
> hope you like it 
> 
> tell me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Their third life held a special place in Keith’s heart. 

Not for any other reason than the fact that in that life, he and his soulmate had grown up together. Born during the same harsh winter, they were raised as close as close could get. By each other’s side whether they wanted it or not. The thing he liked most was that their memories came to them together while they played at each other’s sides. They were eased into this life growing more familiar with each other as they remembered more and more of the time they had spent together in other lives. 

It had been so easy to exist in that shared space. Memories fluttering between them, easy as breathing, easy as anything. 

This life was also special because their shared lives weren’t a secret. Their whole tribe knew from the time when they started remembering. They hadn’t been able to hide the memories they’d shared. Not when they were children, too young to keep secrets that big, secrets they didn’t even know should be kept secret. 

Their tribe was so proud to have the two of them. They were always a spectacle, a blessing from the gods sent to their people to bring good luck. 

They were always shoved together, he and his soulmate, they were expected to do everything together, to go about life in each other’s pocket. Expected to play every game, eat every meal, sleep every night beside the other. It wasn’t so bad at first, they were too young to care, but as they got older, it became a problem. 

They got along for the most part when they were young, but they still had conflicts. As they grew, the conflicts did as well, yet they were still forced together even when they were at odds, especially when they were at odds. They were never allowed to exist separate, never allowed to be their own person, always a pair. This caused resentment to build, and it escalated until they were fighting, always fighting. Their disagreements grew until it reached the point where they couldn’t look at each other without fighting. 

His soulmate especially had trouble with all the attention and expectations thrown on them. His soulmate not only had to deal with the attention that came from being one half of a pair, but also with the added attention that came from them being _One with Two Spirits_. 

They never considered it a burden or a curse, but they were treated differently than other children, treated like there was added weight on their shoulders, wielding two omens of good luck. 

So he and his soulmate fought, often, loudly, violently. They argued about anything and everything that they could, never quiet, never civil. They wrestled and hit, bit and shoved, spit and kicked. They fought even when they weren’t in disagreement simply because everyone around them expected them to get along. 

It made him miserable and he knew it made his soulmate miserable too, but they didn’t know how to find a way to get along.

They continued to clash at every opportunity until the rest of the tribe had had enough. 

One day after a particularly destructive disagreement, the elders brought the two together and told them that they needed to get along, they needed to follow the path that destiny had laid in front of them. 

When he and his soulmate did nothing but glare at each other, the elders wasted no time. They had apparently expected this reaction and were quick to enact their real plan. 

Before he knew it, there was a leather band tied around his wrist, connecting him to his soulmate. The elders told them that if they could learn to get along, they would remove the ties, but until that time, they had to learn to act as one. Then, the two were told to gather a few supplies, go into the forest, and remain there until they learned how to get along. 

They had barely made it out of the village when his soulmate turned to him with fire in their eyes and said, “This is all your fault.” 

Considering their current predicament, he was not in the mood. “Shut up,” he sneered in return.

They scoffed at him and shook their head. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so stubborn and annoying.”

Of course they were blaming him. His soulmate was incapable of seeing any flaws in themself. 

He shoved their shoulder, knocking them over. Of course, he realized almost instantly that he’d messed up. The leather band pulled tight between them, and they both tumbled to the ground, bashing heads and knocking the air out of both of their chests. 

“Get off me!” His soulmate shouted. “You’re crushing me!” They shoved at his shoulder and kicked at his legs, trying to dislodge him. 

“You started it!” He said, more embarrassed at having been dumb ebough to knock them both over than angry. “Just leave me alone!” 

His soulmate just shook their head, anger swelling in their eyes. “I’ll leave you alone when you leave _me_ alone!” 

In an instant, they were rolling around on the ground wrestling. It wasn’t any kind of elegant fighting, and by the end of it, they were laying there out of breath and covered in dirt.

“I think we got along better last time,” he said from where he lay on the ground. There was a stick poking him in the back, but he didn’t have the energy to move. 

His soulmate snorted. “Yeah, but you were prettier back then, too.”

The boy punched them in the shoulder for that, but he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “Yeah, well you were less annoying back then,” he said. 

They lay there for a bit, even after they had caught their breath, and watched the sun creep lower over the horizon. They lay there until the edges of the sky were darkening and the sounds of the forest grew louder around them. 

He nudged his soulmate. “We should probably go build a fire so that we don’t freeze tonight.”

It didn’t take them long to build a small fire. There had been a little bit of fumbling around the cord tied between then, but they managed. They ate their food in companionable silence, and when they were done, they both lay side by side and watched the stars. 

For some reason it was easier here. They didn’t have that pressure of someone always watching their interactions like they were waiting for something. It was serene, just the two of them existing by each others sides.

“I want to go there one day,” his soulmate said.

He glanced over. His eyes traced over their familiar profile, barely visible in the firelight before he answered. “Where?”

They pointed a hand towards the heavens. “To the stars.”

The stars twinkled above them, countless in the black canvas of the sky. 

His soulmate dropped their hand back to their chest, but kept looking at the sky. 

He kept looking at them, like he was trying to memorize a face he already knew better than he knew himself. Then he registered what they had said. 

“I don’t think that’s a place you can go,” he said. He finally turned his gaze back to the sky, scrutinizing, like he could garner their secrets by glaring hard enough. “Is it?”

He watched as his soulmate raised their hand again, fingers outstretched like they could hold the stars in the palm of their hand. They looked so longing. “It has to be. Why else would I want to go there so badly?”

They kept their hand outstretched, like if they tried hard enough they’d finally be able to reach into the sky and grab the stars.

“Maybe one day, if we live enough lives, we’ll be born in the stars.” His heart raced as he said it, but he wouldn’t take the words back even if he could. They’d never talked about the future like that.

His soulmate looked over with a curious look on their face.

“What?” He asked, suddenly embarrassed by what he’d said. 

“You really think we’ll be born together again?” They asked, still looking at him intently.

He tried not to squirm at being stared at like that. “We always are, aren’t we?”

They might have only had three lives together, but he couldn’t imagine this ending, couldn’t imagine not looking into those familiar blue eyes anymore.

His soulmate turned their gaze back to the stars with a shrug. “I guess we are.”

They lay there until they fell asleep, side by side staring up at the heavens, closer than they’d ever been, tethered by more than the leather cord between them. 

The next morning, he woke up before his soulmate and just layed there staring at the pale blue sky, until they stirred beside him. They were both quiet as they ate breakfast and moved to sit on the ground beside each other again. 

He opened his mouth without thinking and said, “Do you think it’s like they said, that we are destined to love each other for eternity? That our souls are made for each other?” He held his breath as he waited for a response.

His soulmate shrugged. “We’ve never been lovers before,” they said. They were fiddling with a little stick in their hands. “Maybe we’re destined in another way.”

He felt something that wasn’t quite sadness fill his heart. He’d always assumed that his soulmate didn’t feel for him what he felt for them, but this was confirmation. This was a definite. “Like what?” He asked, wondering what they were willing to give.

They shrugged again. “Maybe we’re destined to be enemies.”

He couldn’t stop himself from making a face. This is what his soulmate thought of them? They weren’t even friends? They were _enemies_? He prayed his voice wouldn’t betray how broken he suddenly felt. 

“I don’t think we’re enemies, though. I don’t want to kill you or anything.”

He hoped that they didn’t either, but he suddenly realized that he didn’t know for sure. 

Then they nodded at him and he felt marginally better. 

“Okay, then maybe we are destined to be rivals. Rivals don’t want to kill each other but they definitely don’t get along.”

It was better than enemies, so he stuck out his hand to shake on it. “Rivals.”

Not ideal, but better than nothing. 

They decided to stay in the forest for a little while. Being out of the spotlight, out from under the usual pressure, was relaxing for them both, so they spent a couple of days tied together, enjoying the silence around them, bickering even yet. 

They returned to their tribe armed with a promise to get along better, or at least to fake it so the elders would take off the cord. 

They still bickered and challenged each other and even fought sometimes, but it was without the same bite. They were rivals now, and rivals could get along from time to time.

They lived to old age in this life, and died at each other’s sides of the same sickness. 

As they lay there, he looked over to his soulmate. “Maybe we’ll be born as stars next,” he said. 

They gave a weak smile when they heard this. “Maybe so.”

His soulmate looked over and met his eyes. 

“I still don’t like you,” they said, but it was said to fondly to be anything other than a goodbye to an old friend. A goodbye with the promise of seeing them again. 

“I know,” he responded, even though what he really wanted to say was, _I love you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was really hard to write for some reason idk
> 
> hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> tell me what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just made some edits to this chapter  
thanks to JacklynClemonds for pointing out a pretty big mistake i’d made i had several different places where i thought about adding in Shiro finding out and i didn’t even read through what i had when i wrote this chapter so i doubled up! if y’all see any other discrepancies don’t hesitate to point it out! i really appreciate it  
thanks for reading!

After that day on the training deck, things got better. They also got worse. 

For some reason, he couldn’t shake that little voice whispering. _Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._ Every time he and Lance interacted. Every bickering match, every time Lance looked at him with challenge in his eyes, Keith was on the precipice of telling. How they acted was too familiar, too like the rivalries they’d had in the past. Why should he keep up this charade if it didn’t change anything? How much worse could he really make it?

But then Keith would notice how Lance stopped calling him _Rival_. Without all the baggage of their previous lives, their rivalry was different now. It had been drained of something harsh and had settled into something more promising that they’d ever had before. In this life, Lance didn’t prattle on about how he and Keith were born over and over again to hate each other. He just let them be how they were, let them get close. 

So Keith held his tongue. 

This was finally leading somewhere. Where they should have gone lifetimes ago, but kept getting in their own way. Keith wasn’t strong enough to let that go. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._

That voice would whisper over and over.

But Keith would see those eyes lingering on his profile when Lance thought he couldn’t see, would feel that weight of Lance’s arm over his shoulder, would catch a glimpse of that dazed smile.

And he kept it to himself. He felt guilty, he agonized over how wrong he was for doing this, but he was selfish. He shoved that voice down as far as it would go and buried his guilt under that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. 

He and Lance got closer, they worked better together and that brought the team together. They goofed off together, had staring contests, eating contests, thumb wars. They made up maneuvers and executed plans on missions. They worked together, and they were good at it. 

Keith couldn’t help but think that this is how they were supposed to be during _all_ their lives. This was their true potential as soulmates. 

So things were better. 

And then they were worse again. 

It happened after they liberated a planet from the Galra. Almost as soon as they all made it back into the hangar, Allura called them all into the control room. 

She’d barely finished speaking before Lance turned to him with that look in his eyes that sent butterflies through Keith’s stomach and said, “Race you!” 

He took off in a sprint before Keith had registered what he’d said. 

“Hey, no fair!” He shouted, following after him. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his face as he followed after him. 

He caught up just in time for them both to reach the door to the control room where they both stopped to catch their breath. 

Lance threw an arm around Keith’s shoulder and leaned most of his weight against him. He was breathing heavily, but he was also grinning from ear to ear. 

“Maybe one day you’ll beat me,” he said between breaths. 

Keith turned to smile up at him. “I’m pretty sure I caught up to you,” he said and then nudged Lance in the ribs with his elbow. “Also, you cheated, so I call foul.”

Keith couldn’t help but cherish the easy way Lance was showing him affection. There were no ulterior motives to Lance’s challenges, no centuries of loathing, here they were just two friends. Maybe more. 

Lance took off towards the door of the control room, never dropping his arm from Keith’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he said, nudging Keith back.

They were still panting when they stepped into the room. 

“Has it always been so far to the control room?” He whined. “I feel like it usually isn’t.”

Keith just nodded beside him. He was still reveling in the warmth from Lance’s arm over his shoulder. 

Allura was eyeing them. “Thank you for being so eager to hear what I had to say,” she said. 

Keith was pretty sure she was being sarcastic, but he was too captivated by Lance’s blue eyes to care. Lance was the one who broke their eye contact, and Keith couldn’t hide his grin when he saw pink creep over Lance’s cheeks. 

As everyone else made it to the room, Lance dropped his arm from around Keith’s shoulder all the sudden, but Keith didn’t mind. 

Allura had called them together to tell them about a party that the planet they’d just liberated was planning on throwing for them. Then everything was a blur of formal clothes and being ushered into a large room full of those tall aliens. 

The party was well in swing by the time they arrived, and all Keith wanted to do was find a nice corner to stand in and not talk to anyone until the party was over. 

He let out a breath of relief when they were immediately ushered to an unoccupied table. They sat down and Keith tried not to fidget too much in his formal wear as he shifted in his seat. He was sure it was obvious how uncomfortable he was, but he couldn’t help it. 

He glanced over at Lance who was glowing under the attention from the aliens around him. He was blowing kisses and waving, glowing in his blue formal wear. He looked beautiful like this, completely in his element. 

Keith was startled from his thoughts when a chime sounded and one of the aliens stood up at the front of the room. Keith couldn’t help but flinch when he started to speak, his voice was loud and high pitched. 

“We are here today to honor these Paladins of Voltron who have liberated our planet and many others from the tyranny of the Galra Empire.”

Keith flinched again when applause sounded around the room, too much noise all the sudden. 

“Here to bless the Paladins with luck and good fortune in the continued fight against the Galra are our very own Haih’haraath.”

More applause. Keith expected it this time, so he didn’t react to it other than gripping the fabric of his pants in his fist. He almost missed the two aliens who walked through the room, but their headdresses glittered in the light as they made their way to the table where the paladins were sitting. 

Keith fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth during introductions, still too overwhelmed, but he looked up when Pidge spoke up. 

“So what exactly is a Haih’haraath?” She asked. 

The two giggled at the question before one of them answered, Keith wasn’t sure which one. “I am not sure what you would call it in your language, but it roughly translates to ‘Ever-Love’ for us.”

Without missing a beat, the other one spoke, continuing like only one of them was speaking. “It means we have lived all our lives together.”

Once those words registered, it took everything in Keith not to react. He froze where he was, breath catching in his throat. Thankfully, any reaction he might have had was covered up by the sound of something hitting the bottom of the table and Lance jerking so that his drink spilled all over his front. 

All eyes swiveled to Lance, and Keith tried to keep himself from doing anything suspicious. He had so many thoughts in his head that it had gone blank. His heart was pounding in his chest, hands trembling in his lap, eyes welling up, but he shoved it all down and forced on an indifferent face. 

He could feel Lance’s glance, but he forced himself to stay still, afraid that as soon as he moved, he would give it away. 

“Oh, so you experience reincarnation on this planet?” Hunk asked. Keith would’ve had to be blind to miss the glance he shot in Lance’s direction. How much did Hunk know? He was glad that Shiro knew how to keep his composure. He didn’t even glance in Keith’s direction, nothing to give him away.

“No, it is just our experience. All of the others around us live only one life,” one of the aliens said. 

Their partner responded. “We have met others like us but never on our planet.”

Keith’s mind was reeling. So there were others like him and Lance? They weren’t the only ones? He had so many questions. 

Then he remembered that he couldn’t ask them. He was pretending like he didn’t remember. It would be suspicious for him to be too interested in them, so he shoved down the overwhelming swell of emotions and forced himself to sit still. 

Suddenly, a loud noise cut through the sounds in the room and Keith looked over to see Lance, standing from his seat. He looked distressed, pale and trembling, and Keith wanted to reach out, but he just kept his hands in his lap as Lance excused himself from the table and all but sprinted from the room. 

Shiro put a hand on his arm, to comfort him or hold him back, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn't do this. He had to help. 

Hunk made like was was going to follow Lance, but Keith was faster. He shrugged off Shiro’s hand and got up from the table. 

Lance was standing out on the balcony, hunched in on himself when Keith finally caught up to him. 

“I’m okay, Hunk,” Lance said without turning around. “Just a little too much. I never really--” 

He cut himself off when he turned around and saw Ketih. 

“Oh, hey Keith,” he said, a little panicked, obviously caught off guard. 

Keith gave him a small smile and walked over to his side. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him._

And for the first time, Keith didn’t try to shove it down. Maybe he could tell him. Maybe it wouldn’t make things worse. 

His hands were trembling at his sides and he hoped Lance couldn’t tell. 

“It was a bit too much for me, too,” Keith said, but then Lance turned his head sharply towards him and his pounding heart made him change his mind. “The party,” he continued. “Too many people, er..aliens.” 

Lance slumped in on himself, disappointed, probably, and Keith changed his mind again. No matter how much worse this might make things, he had to tell Lance. He had to let it out. 

“Lance, I-I have to…” He trailed off, heart pounding so hard that he could barely hear his own words. “Lance you have to know--” He paused and bit his lip. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to go back to what they had been. 

Keith sighed. “Never mind. I’ll see you inside.” 

Keith felt like a failure when he turned back around and made his way back into the room. How could he? He was so selfish. This had to be hurting Lance. He was probably felt confused and alone in all this and Keith was the one who made him feel like that. 

Keith glanced up at the table where the team was eating and having fun, but he shook his head and made his way to the hallway they’d come through to get to the room. He didn’t think he could sit there while everyone had fun around him while he was feeling so miserable. 

He saw out of the corner of his eye that Shiro had followed him, but he didn’t stop of slow down. He made his way through the hallways, not sure what he was searching for until he came to a dark hallway with a large ornate table against the wall. 

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the table. He felt like a child again, but was too overwhelmed to care. He just curled up and buried his face in his knees.

He ignored Shiro when he sat down beside him, folded in on himself to fit under the table with Keith. 

They were both silent for a little bit, Shiro giving Keith time to speak if he wanted to. 

Keith had to say something, the silence was making his heart pound, so he just blurted out, “I’ve never met anyone else like us before.” He didn’t raise his head, but he could feel the curious look Shiro was giving him. 

“Oh?” He asked. He didn’t seem to know what to say. 

Keith didn’t answer, he just breathed shaky breaths into his knees and trembled. 

“I never even considered that there might be others,” he said eventually. His voice was so muffled that he wasn’t sure Shiro could hear him, but he’d already started so he couldn’t stop. “It always just been me and Lance trying to figure it out. We don’t even have a word for it like they do. What did they call it? The closest we have is Soulmates, but that isn’t really it, is it? I just, I want to talk to them but I can’t, can I? Not with the way I’ve been lying. I don’t deserve it. Lance would be suspicious anyway. I just don’t know what to do.”

When he stopped talking, the silence hung between them again, and Keith didn’t dare look up to see what Shiro’s reaction was. He usually wasn’t one to rant like that but he hadn’t been able to stop.

The silence stretched in until Shiro cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said, trying to process what Keith has said.

Silence again. 

Keith peeked over at him from where he was sitting, trying to see what Shiro was thinking. He was looking over at Keith with a crease between his brows, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“I'm not going to sit here and pretend I know all the answers because I don’t know what you’re going through. But I will say that I think you need to talk to Lance, tell him that you remember.”

Keith banged his head on the underside of the table from sitting up too fast. 

”No! No. Definitely not.” Keith said, rubbing the sore spot on the top of his head. “If Lance finds out that I’ve been lying this whole time he’ll hate me more than he ever did.”

Shiro sighed and gave Keith a look.

Keith refused to give in under his stare. “I’m serious, Shiro, I can’t tell him. I’ve thought it through and no way it doesn’t end with me ejecting myself into space because I messed everything up so bad.” He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Things are finally going well and I don’t want to mess that up.”

Shiro held his hands up in surrender. “Like I said, I don’t have all the answers, but even if things are going well, don’t you think they’d go better if he knew you remembered? Wouldn’t things be more like those two out there?” 

And didn’t that sound nice. Wasn’t that everything Keith dreamed of? But that couldn’t happen, not if Lance knew, not if Lance hated him again.

“I can’t, Shiro,” Keith said. He knew he sounded a little desperate, but he couldn’t help it. “As soon as Lance finds out, he’s going to go right back to that rivalry and it will be the same thing as always.”

Shiro shook his head. “I know you think that and maybe you’re right, you certainly know more about what you two have been through that I do. I just think that maybe it won’t be that bad.”

“How do you know?”

Keith wanted that so bad, but he was a coward in the end. He was as too scared of what might happen to give up what they had now.

“Let’s call it a leader’s instinct, but I’ve seen Lance look at you sometimes like he’s so sad, like he’s mourning someone. Maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

Keith let out a sigh and lifted his head back up. He “Yeah, maybe.” He didn’t really believe Shiro, but he didn’t think they were going to agree anytime soon.

Shiro squeezed his shoulder once before crawling out from under the table and stretching back out. 

“How about we head back to the party for now. We can talk more when we get back to the castle,” he said, holding a hand out for Keith. 

When they got back to the banquet hall, Keith caught sight of Lance standing outside with one of the alien pair and he felt envy that he was getting to talk to one of them, to ask questions, to just know that there was someone out there who understood. Then he felt something ugly like jealousy rise up in him when the alien reached over and grabbed Lance’s hand. He shoved it down though. They had a soulmate, they weren’t going to take his.

Lance stayed outside for the est of the party and Keith stayed slumped in his seat. He could see Hunk looking between him and Lance and the alien pair, but he ignored him.

By the time they were headed back to the castle, Keith was tired and grumpy and ready to just be alone in his room. 

Then Lance slung an arm around his shoulder all the sudden.

“Hey, Keithy-boy, what’s got you down?”

It was like all the heavy weight and guilt was pushed aside for that light feeling in his chest. He turned his grin to Lance. “Maybe because I was jealous that I didn’t get to skip out on the party like _someone else_ I know.”

Lance nudged him, and he nudged Lance back, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe everything was going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys here’s the thing with how they perceived their past lives. the rivalry really wasn’t as intense as they made it out to be. it was kind of in their heads. you know how you tend to exaggerate things in your mind? no one perceives interactions exactly how they happen with no bias and after centuries together, these boys had nothing but bias. 
> 
> lance kind of latched on to the rivalry when he thought of it because he was searching for what their lives meant and why they found each other over and over again. he didn’t connect the dots to soulmate as fast as keith did in that first life because keith was rude to him for what he through was no reason so he never thought to examine his own feelings for him. when they met again, he thought keith didn’t like him because he’d ignored him so much the first life so even when they got closer, even when it was clear that they didn’t hate each other lance was still influenced by that first life and didn’t think to examine their interactions without that coloring how he perceived them. i think this dragged out through all their lives until the current one. lance didn’t really understand that they’d been friends not rivals until he looked back and examined their lives with that idea instead of assuming a rivalry and never delving deeper. hindsight is 20/20. he couldn’t see what they really were until he understood that he’d been perceiving things with the bias of the rivalry he’d assumed. 
> 
> keith on the other hand knew about his own feelings for lance, and that influenced how he perceived lance’s “rivalry” it’s not that he couldn’t see the moments when they were close or the moments when they behaved like friends not rivals, it’s that he knew lance didn’t feel for him what he felt for lance and so he exaggerated every negative emotion lance directed at him. like when you have a crush on someone that you know doesn’t feel the same and so every thing they say to you that isn’t explicitly positive is the worst thing in the world? keith is kind of here. he loves lance, but he’s so stuck on all the times lance said he didn’t like him that it blinds him to all the times when lance acted towards him positively. he missed every tender moment between them not because he didn’t cherish them, but because he was lamenting that the rivalry was keeping them apart. 
> 
> the over-exaggerated rivalry between them overshadowed every positive interaction they had and it caused them to only see the bad between them until they chose to look past that. 
> 
> i think that personal bias and perception influences a lot of our actions. we don’t have society and culture without bias. this is why the flashbacks show more friendship than rivalry, because that’s what it was, but neither of them could see that. 
> 
> idk if anyone cared about that analysis of my own work, but i hope that clears some things up. i might not have made it obvious enough but they were friends in their past lives, they just couldn’t see that. so if you’re reading those past lives and thinking ‘this didn’t feel like a rivalry’ thats because you’re seeing what keith and lance were both blind to


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith is trans in this chapter so there is some dysphoria in the first part of this just as a warning

The next life for Keith was bittersweet in his memories. 

This life started out calm and warm. His parents had been very kind. Loving in a way that families with too many children usually aren’t. 

No matter how tired he was, no matter how hard the day, his father came home every evening with some wild tale to tell at the dinner table. His father had been a giant of a man who laughed too loud and was fond of wrestling them all in the floor until he had to call for help once he was overtaken. He was the best father Keith had in all his lives. Keith couldn’t remember much about his mother other than the fact that she was gentle with all of them. Even when they pushed her to her limits, even when they were rowdy and annoying, she always had the same kind smile on her face. 

You’d expect his parents to be distant, working to feed so many mouths, overwhelmed by bills and jobs and children, but they were loving, doting almost. It helped that the older children sought out odd jobs to bring in some extra money, never forced to work but willing when things were tight. All in all, they never struggled with money. 

They still lived in a rough part of the city, a place full of mean people and dodgy characters loitering in alleyways, but Keith couldn’t remember ever feeling unsafe. There was always someone else around a sibling or a parent, he was never really alone. Their life was far from perfect, but they were happy. 

Keith could clearly remember the one big bed he and all his siblings shared. He could remember times where he woke up in the middle of the night, overwarm despite the cool air that filled the drafty little house they had. No matter how cold the house was, they were always warm. There were so many of them squeezed onto the bed that it left nowhere for the cold to seep through. 

He can’t remember how many of them there were, but he could remember that he was somewhere near the middle of all of them. Not the youngest and certainly not the oldest. 

He could remember feeling embarrassed a lot as he grew older. He could remember walking along the dirty cobbled streets and praying that no one was looking at him. He felt exposed, raw. Always there was some ever-present feeling in him that he couldn’t describe, something that made him want to hide somewhere out of sight. He dreaded feeling eyes on him, the knowledge that people were perceiving him.

Keith could remember crying to himself and thinking over and over boys don’t cry. 

He could remember wishing his soulmate was there. They would understand him. If no one else understood they would. But he kept his head down in the winding streets and never met those familiar eyes.

His family didn’t have a lot of money, but they weren’t poor. There was always enough food to fill everyone’s stomachs, and he and his siblings never had to wear worn out shoes that were too small for them like some of the other families. Something they _never_ got, however, was new clothes. With so many children, they never had to buy new ones unless the old ones wore out. Whatever clothes that the older children outgrew were passed down to the younger siblings and so forth. 

There was one particular summer where the only thing that fit him well was an old pair of trousers from his oldest brother. His mother hadn’t ever said anything about it, she just let him run and play however he liked. They didn’t go to Mass often, and they never went during the summer, so he didn’t need any sunday clothes to be presentable in. 

He played every day in those clothes, only taking them off when his mother forced them off him to wash the grime away. He didn’t much care when the other mothers tutted at him when he passed. He didn’t even mind when he overheard them tell his mother that they thought she was too lenient on her children. 

It was the best summer he’d had in his whole childhood. 

When he’d finally grown out of them at the end of the summer, he could remember sitting in the floor at his mother’s feet, crying over the dress she was taking in for him. The weather was finally turning cool again, and his mother said that he couldn’t keep wearing his brother’s trousers everywhere.

His mother though he was crying because the dress was a hand-me-down from two of his older sisters. She thought he was sad that they couldn't afford to buy him something new. 

He didn’t have the words to tell her why he was really crying, so he let her think that was true. 

It wasn’t until she had him try it on to test her measurements that he realized he was upset because he didn’t want to be seen out in a dress. He dreaded the thought of wearing it around, already missing the trousers that his mother gave to his little brother once she finished the dress. He’d gone the whole summer not thinking about whether or not anyone was looking at him and he didn’t want to go back to that discomfort.

One of his sister cooed at how pretty he was in the dress, the first dress he worn in months, and his mother told him that he was presentable now, proper. She said that he didn’t have to be embarrassed about having to go out dressed like a boy anymore.

He never told her that he was more embarrassed to go out dressed like a girl. 

A couple months later it was his birthday, and he came home to find a present sitting on the kitchen table and everyone’s eyes on him. The present was the size of a small pillow, and it was wrapped up in dark butcher’s paper to hide what was inside. His mother watched with an expectant gleam in her eye as he pulled the string loose to reveal a folded up bundle of clothing. When he pulled it out of the package, a white-hot jolt of something terrible shot through him. He watched as it unfolded to reveal a brand new dress made from a dark blue fabric, stylish, nothing like the hand-me-down he was wearing. 

Tears pricked his eyes as his father bragged about how they all chipped in, working a little extra to afford the thing. A lump formed in his throat as his mother said that they all knew how upset he was about having to wear his sister’s old things. They all wanted him to be happy, so they’d figured out a way to get him a new dress of his own. They called them happy tears when he clutched the dress to his chest and cried. His mother held him close and laughed, misreading his distress as joy.

His hands trembled when they cajoled him into trying it on for them, and he struggled not to let the tears fall again as they told him how spectacular he looked. He felt so selfish at the way his skin crawled.

He’d never felt more loved than he did in that moment.

He ran away the next day. 

He left the dress folded neatly on the bed for one of his sisters to wear. Before he left, he stole his father’s only pair of Sunday trousers and wrapped his chest in strips of discarded fabric from his mother’s sewing bag. He cut his hair as short as he could get it with an old knife his father had given to one of his brothers. They didn’t have a mirror so he had to feel with his hands to make sure he hadn’t missed any pieces, and when he was done, he cried a little curled up alone in the middle of the kitchen floor. 

He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving, and he didn’t know how to write so he didn’t leave a note. He didn’t even know what he should say, what he _could_ say. He knew his family loved him, but he still didn’t want them to know. He’d rather leave without telling them than risk them hating him. 

He just chose a new name for himself and set out. 

He never saw any of them again. 

That was the thing Keith regretted most in all his lives, running away, not saying goodbye. 

He set out, more confident than he’d been in a long time, sadder than he’d ever been in his life, and went as far away as he could. 

His only consolation was that he could still find his soulmate. Even without his family, there was still someone out there who knew him, who he could count on. 

His life was a blur of being hungry and colder than he’d ever been. He slept in alleyways and found food where he could. Working when he could find work and moving to a new town when he couldn’t.

He spent years like this. Never settling down, too scared of someone finding out to make a permanent home anywhere. He got very good at hiding it, though. His back hurt often, and sometimes he tied his chest wrappings so tight that it felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he kept it a secret. No one ever doubted him. Some nights when he had enough money to rent a room of his own, he would carefully remove the cloth and breath in so deep that it made his lungs ache. But those times were few and far between, so he lived and worked and grew and no one ever found out. 

He never found his soulmate on the streets no matter how hard he looked. He never saw those eyes. This was the longest they’d ever gone without each other, and he was starting to get worried. 

Nothing really changed until he found work on a ship. It was some kind of merchant vessel, completely average and carrying nothing important. It was hard work, but he didn’t have to live off scraps or sleep on the street while he was on the ship.

He’d always been aware of pirates. Aware in a distant sense, though. His father used to tell stories about them, dreadful and frightening. He knew they were real, but he never imagined encountering one, and he definitely never imagined becoming one. 

At first, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He was taken onto the ship as a captive, to work however the people aboard the ship saw fit. After a while, he became a part of the crew. It was hard to hide the way he bound his chest while on a ship of so many other people, but he made do. 

When one day the captain told him he could leave the next time they stopped to port, he was considering it, if for no other reason than to find a room of his own to unwrap and breathe in deep like he hadn’t in so long.

He was found out, though. He was scared at first, terrified. He knew what they did to people like him back home, and he couldn’t imagine what bloodthirsty pirates might do. He never could have imagined how little they cared, how accepting they were. He stopped having to hide, stopped having to be so careful. He had room to breathe finally and it was the first time in this life where he hadn’t felt out of place. 

He decided to stay on the ship. The captain was happy with his decision, and the rest of the crew celebrated when they heard the news. 

As time passed he grew. He was taller than he ever expected to grow. He figured he was going to take after his mother, he looked the most like her after all, but apparently he’d inherited his father’s height. Not a giant quite like he’d been, but taller than most of the other men on the ship. He also got strong. He’d never been weak, having worked since he was young, but the work on the ship made him bulk up until he looked like any of the other people who were on their ship. 

He was finally happy. 

The only thing missing from this life was his soulmate. It was like everything was falling into place, but there was still that one thing missing, that little ache somewhere deep in his chest that never really went away. The years passed, and the ache grew more prominent, never fading, never dulling. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed on the ship. He didn’t have a reason to keep track of how many years were passing, but he knew he’d been on the ship for a while when it happened. 

There was a storm, a big one, one that made even the captain nervous. He’d always had a sure foot, but a sure foot doesn’t matter when everything is slick with rain. 

It happened in an instant. He was securing a sail and then he was in the water. He doubted anyone could hear him shouting over the sounds of the storm, and he thought that would be his end. He thought of his soulmate as he struggled to keep his head above the uneasy sea. He wondered if they would miss him, he wondered if they’d hate him for never meeting them in this life or if they’d already died. He spared a thought that he’d left them behind when he’d run away from home all those years ago. 

In his thrashing around, he was shocked when his fingers grabbed hold of something floating on the surface of the water. A piece of driftwood. He grabbed onto it and clung like his life depended on it, because it most definitely did. He’d lost sight of the ship almost as soon as he’d gone into the water so he had no hope of finding it now. His one comfort was that he knew there were a series of islands close by. Maybe he’d drift to one. 

He used the last of his strength to drag himself onto the piece of wood, and once he was up, he gasped for breath. His lungs struggled to expand, but his waterlogged bindings refused to budge, and as he lay there, black crept over the edges of his vision. 

His last thought before he became completely unconscious was of his soulmate. 

He awoke to warm sand underneath him and someone’s hands on his chest, cutting his bindings off.

Blinding panic shot through him, and before he knew what was going on, he shoved away from whoever it was and scrambled back, clutching the fabric close to his heaving chest. 

“Don’t touch me!” He shouted, still unaware as to where he was. 

Across from him was a man with a knife held in his hand, and when his eyes drifted up to the man’s eyes, his heart leapt in his chest. 

They both froze, taking in the moment, and then his soulmate dropped the knife from his hand as they both started laughing. 

“Not quite the stars, but it’s something,” he said to his soulmate, sitting back. He still clutched the fabric to his chest. 

His soulmate shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. It was dripping wet, probably from pulling him from the water. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He said. 

His soulmate was tall, probably taller than he was, but he was thin, not weak or underfed, just thin. He was wearing next to nothing, and it put his wiry muscles and smooth skin on display. 

He tore his eyes from his soulmate and looked down at the ruined stips of fabric in his arms. He’d gone through several different chest bindings since the fabric he’d taken from his mother’s sewing things, so he wasn’t particularly attached to it, but he was still a little bit annoyed. 

He looked back up to his soulmate and said to him, “If you wanted to undress me so badly, you could have done it a few lives ago if you’d just asked nicely.”

He was bolder than he’d been before, and he couldn’t help but tease. 

His soulmate flicked sand in his direction, but there was the barest hint of a blush staining his ears. 

Still grinning, he looked back down at the cloths in his arms and sighed loudly. “You really ruined this, didn’t you?”

He wasn’t actually mad, still just teasing. He was too happy to have found his soulmate again to really be upset. 

His soulmate let out an offended noise. “If I hadn’t ruined your weird unnecessary clothes then you would still be suffocating. Also, you never thanked me for dragging you out of the ocean.”

He waggled a finger at all the clothes lying around and the pile of cloths in his arms. 

“What even are all those shirts and cloths for, anyway? That’s more fabric than any person should wear.”

He didn’t hesitate at first. "Most of them were just for the look," he said. Then he glanced down at the dripping wet cloths clutched to his chest. They used to be a deep red, but had faded to a soft pink from wear. He almost made up some excuse, but then he glanced back up at those eyes and knew he couldn’t lie. He tipped the cloth down just enough for him to see the barest glimpse of his chest so that he could get the picture. "These were for something else."

"Oh," his soulmate said. His brows furrowed, not quite understanding. He looked hesitant to speak."So you're-"

"A man.” He interrupted, not waiting around for any guessing to happen. "I'm a man." He gestured to the cloth he still clutched to his chest. "And this makes me feel more like one.” He couldn’t keep from teasing, wanting to keep the conversation light. "So of course this was the only thing you decided to chop up."

His soulmate made another offended noise. "I was saving your life!" He shouted. "Why were you even floating in the water like that anyway?"

He paused. He didn’t really want to think about his other crew members. They’d undoubtedly discovered him missing by now, lost to the storm. Would they miss him? He thought suddenly of his mother. 

To distract himself from his thoughts, he started gathering his clothes from the ground around him. He kept his attention on his task as he answered his soulmate’s question.

“There was a storm. I was thrown overboard."

"I'm sorry.” His soulmate said before falling silent.

He sighed when his soulmate didn’t say anything else and looked up at him. Those eyes were a comfort. 

"They probably don’t even know to look for me. Everyone probably thinks I’m dead." He smiled and hoped it didn’t look as distraught as he felt. “It’s not the first family I’ve ever lost.”

He wasn’t just talking about the family he’d left behind in this life, but also the families he’d lost in lives previous.

His soulmate put his hand on his shoulder and said, ”Well, you'll always have me." 

No matter how upset he was at being separated from his crew, he couldn’t help the way his heart raced.

"I may not like you, but it seems like we're stuck together."

That made him deflate a little bit, but he hoped it didn’t show. He’d take the first bit as long as they were together. 

He broke their eye contact and took in their surroundings. From what he could tell, the island wasn’t very big, and it looked almost completely deserted of life.

"It looks like we're _really_ stuck together now. Look at this place."

He’d swear he could feel the glare his soulmate sent his way. "If you say one bad word about my island, I will drag you back out into the sea and leave you there."

He let out a laugh to ease the tension and put his arms up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. This is a lovely place."

The glare eased up, but his soulmate still looked at him like he was expecting him to say something else bad about the island. 

The cloths for his chest binding were unsalvageable, but the rest of his clothes were only waterlogged and covered in sand so he got dressed as much as he could. 

Once he was dressed, his soulmate pointed into the trees. 

"I guess I need to go introduce you to the rest of the village." He glanced at the pirate and winced. “They might give you a hard time at first because pirates have a really bad reputation around here." 

He smiled and knew it came out bitter. "I'm used to it," he said. "Believe it or not, pirates have a really bad reputation everywhere."

He knew why they had such a reputation, but it didn’t make him feel ashamed of what he was. He was mostly proud of the fear they struck into other people. 

His soulmate laughed at what he’d said as he turned and headed to the trees. "You can stay with me until your ship comes for you, and if one never does, we'll figure it out."

The village took quite a bit of convincing for them to not leave him in the jungle or drop him back in the sea. It helped that his soulmate seemed to have a way with words. Charismatic, convincing. They’d finally agreed to let him stay there as long as his soulmate kept an eye on him and never left him alone. 

They didn’t trust him but that was understandable. Also it was better to be under constant surveillance than at the bottom of the sea. It didn’t hurt that the one surveying him was his soulmate. 

It took about a year for his crew to find him. They hadn’t even been looking, having thought he died, so they were just as overjoyed to find him as he was to see them. 

They stopped on the island to make repairs, and they said they were looking forward having him back on deck when they set off again. 

He couldn’t wait to get back on the water. His time on the island had been good, but he missed his friends and his life. 

The only thing making him hesitate was his soulmate. He couldn’t just leave him behind. They’d never been apart after they found each other, and he couldn’t imagine just saying goodbye. 

He agonized over what to do. It was tearing him apart, the desire to be back on the water and the pull to his soulmate. He continued to turn the dilema over in his mind until his soulmate said to him, “What makes you think I’m not coming with you?” 

He’d said it out of nowhere, and the sudden words made him fill to bursting with joy as he smiled wider than he’d probably ever smiled before.

”I think it’s time for me to spread my wings and see what else the world has to offer than this island.” His soulmate nudged him. “Besides, I think someone needs to put you in your place. I’m sure you’re getting a big head without your rival to knock you down a few pegs.”

He was so happy he didn’t even _mind_ being called a rival.

Life on the ship was like a dream. 

His soulmate took to life on the water like nothing he’d ever seen. He might have been bitter at times when his crew ribbed him about how much better at this his soulmate was, but he was still lost in the euphoria of getting to be back with his crew with his soulmate at his side. 

They were still rivals. His soulmate never ceased to remind him, but they were also friends. Shipmates. Companions. Maybe in this life, if they’d lived longer they might have been more, but they both died before anything came of it. 

It was the British Navy and their war on piracy that brought them both down. In that final battle, they fought back to back, reminiscent of their last battle on that mountain village. 

“I still don’t like you!” His soulmate shouted at him over the sound of the battle. 

Despite the words, it sounded fond, and he thought that maybe that was the closest thing to an _I love you_ as he’d ever get from his soulmate so he just laughed and kept fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter!
> 
> i had an emotional time writing this chapter. i drew a lot from personal experience in this, especially dealing with a loving affectionate family who you dread coming out to. i really wish i’d had room to write some kind of reunion with his family but alas this isn’t what the story is about ultimately. i talked about writing long one shots about each of the lives they lived and i think if i do any of them i’ll definitely do this one.  
i hope there’s nothing anyone finds offensive in how i wrote keith as a trans character. i’m not cis so i worked from my own experience so i’m not just talking out of my ass when it comes to being trans. (also never ever bind like Keith. i used to bind with a piece of cloth with no give and it is so so bad for you please dears don’t do it) 
> 
> i hope you like this chapter. it was one i enjoyed writing.
> 
> tell me what you think!!!


	9. Chapter 9

Keith had made up his mind. 

He’d made up his mind and he was so nervous about it he almost couldn’t breathe. 

He was going to tell Lance everything. Tell him that he remembered him from the Garrison, tell him that he remembered everything, tell him he loved him. 

Every time he thought about what he was planning on doing his heart leapt in his chest and his hands trembled. He’d been on the edge of an anxiety attack for what felt like days and every time he thought of Lance, it got a little worse. He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous before in any of his lives, but he was sick of keeping it in. 

He was going to tell him. 

Even if Lance got mad, even if the rivalry got worse, even if he didn’t speak to him anymore, he had to tell him. The guilt was eating him up. 

After his talk with Shiro, Keith had kept an eye on Lance, watching him in ways he hadn’t before. Now that he was looking, he noticed exactly what Shiro told him was happening. Lance seemed sad. The entire time they’d been in space, there’d been some kind of melancholy to him. Everyone assumed it was homesickness. Hell, Lance himself had admitted to being homesick, so Keith never questioned it. 

He never imagined that Lance was missing him. 

But now Keith was paying attention. Now he was watching him close enough to catch the lingering stares, to notice that far away look Lance got in his eye sometimes when he thought no one was looking. It was something different than homesickness, but maybe it wasn’t that far off. Keith had to shove down excited thoughts that maybe Lance was homesick for _him_ because his heart was too fragile for him to get his hopes up.

Still, every time he saw that tender smile aimed at him, tinged with something like heartbreak, Keith couldn’t do anything to stop the butterflies that threatened to overtake him or the regret that seemed to fill every spare inch of his heart. 

It was that same tender smile that made up Keith’s mind about telling Lance. They were getting closer, spending more time together, arguing less, laughing more. Every so often their hands would brush or their eyes would linger too long on each other and Keith would lose his breath. And for the first time in all their lives, he thought maybe Lance could feel it too.

He had to tell Lance because finally, _finally_, he felt something for Keith other than rivalry. And it was because of a lie. 

Keith felt like a fraud. It made him feel dirty, like he was taking advantage of Lance. The closer they got, the worse Keith felt, and now they were hurtling towards the precipice of something deeper, and Keith had to tell before he burst. 

Shiro wasn’t much help, though Keith figured that it made sense that he wouldn’t know what to do in this situation. He just told Keith that communication was important and that he thought Keith should tell Lance. 

So Keith was going to tell him. 

And he was freaking out. 

He spent a whole day and a half pacing in his room going over the words in his head over and over. He knew he had to just say it, get it out before anything more could happen between them. He paced around with one thing rolling around his head over and over again never ending, never changing. 

_I remember. I remember. I remember._

And then another thought would break through. This one for after, if Lance would still talk to him after. 

_I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll never stop loving you. _

He eventually gathered his nerves, fist clenched so tightly that he knew there would be marks left from his nails. He steeled himself and walked straight to Lance’s door. 

And then he walked right past it as his heat took a nosedive in panic. He didn’t get far before he turned on his heel and headed back, resolved once again, only to panic and bypass it once again. 

He was too nervous to be angry at himself. 

He turned again and this time he managed to stop himself in front of Lance’s door.

He looked over the shiny metal of the sliding door. It was the same as any of the other doors in the hallway only distinguishable by the little blue placard that he’d made to stick to the outside that said “COOLEST AND MOST HANDSOME PALADIN” in thick block letters. At some point someone had crossed out “coolest” and written “blue-est” and someone else had crossed out “handsome” and written “annoying”. Under it was another sign that Pidge had stuck on his door for reasons she refused to explain that said, “No Boys Allowed” but Lance had crossed out “no” and written “some”. 

Keith looked over the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to raise his hand to knock. 

This is a bad idea, he thought. Lance is going to hate me. 

He turned on his heel and walked back to his room only to stop himself and head back. He had to tell him. It was eating him up inside. He had to. 

He raised his hand to knock, but he still couldn’t bring himself to. He shook his head and continued pacing in front of the door. He had to do this, so why couldn’t he just knock?

While he was pacing, someone cleared their throat from the hallway. Keith had been so caught up in his thoughts that the noise startled him enough to make him jump. 

He spun around to see Lance standing there and his heart leapt to his throat. 

“I was just passing by,” Keith blurted out. He hoped that Lance hadn’t been there long enough to see him pacing. 

Lance grinned in a way that made it clear he had definitely seen, and it made Keith want to sink right through the floor. 

“Do you normally walk by my door 30 times when you’re just passing by?” He asked. 

There was nothing Keith could do to stop the flush that he knew would be unmistakable on his pale skin. 

Lance made his way over to Keith, walking with an arrogant sway to his hips. Like a cat who was too slick for its own good. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he looked like the perfect picture of confidence. Keith hoped Lance couldn’t hear the way he gulped when Lance walked so close that there was barely any space left between them. 

His hands were trembling, but he didn’t do anything to hide it because he knew that his every emotion was bound to be written on his flushed face. 

Keith’s mind was blank as Lance stared at him. His sudden appearance had cast everything Keith had been planning on saying out of his mind. 

Lance’s voice was breathy when he finally spoke and it made Keith feel like maybe he wasn’t the only one who was nervous, though what Lance had to be nervous about, he didn’t know.

“So, what were you needing me for?”

Keith took in a large breath to calm down, but it was shaky, he knew. He knew he had to get it out, but suddenly, here, with Lance right in front of him, he couldn’t find the words. 

“I have a confession to make,” he finally blurted out. 

His heart picked up speed again, and he could barely think.

Lance’s eyes darted over his face like he was trying to read his thoughts, but he didn’t say anything. 

“I remember,” Keith said. 

Then the panic set in. His heart raced and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t hear over the sound of his pounding of his heart, couldn’t think over all the emotions swirling through his mind. 

Lance was standing there silent, staring like he had been before. He had some expression on his face that Keith couldn’t quite decipher, and it made his heart race even harder. 

Keith didn’t even know what was coming out of his mouth, he just knew he had to say something. He mumbled something, not quite words, just sounds, and then he finally said, “I remember you from back at the Garrison.”

_No_, Keith thought. _Wrong direction!_

Lance’s face went completely, totally blank. 

There was no expression on his face, he just stared at Keith until Keith was sweating under the intensity of it. 

“I’m sorry I lied,” Keith said.

His heart sank at the words. He realized that he wasn’t going to actually tell Lance what he’d come here to say, he was too scared. 

Keith continued when Lance continued to stare. He rambled because he didn’t really know what to say. Well, he knew exactly what he needed to say, he just couldn’t force the words out. 

“I don’t really know why I did it, and then too much time had passed for me to correct myself and I--”

He stopped when Lance held up a hand between them. His face was still blank. 

“It’s okay,” he said. It was quiet. Distracted. 

_Is it really?_ Keith thought. 

“Really?” He said out loud.

He was surprised, but more than that, he wanted to go, to lock himself in his room and curse himself for being too scared to do what he needed to do. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Lance said. He laughed and it sounded so forced, that Keith could barely stand it. He’d hurt him again. “Just don’t do it again and we’re good.”

Keith smiled but he knew it wasn’t convincing. 

“Like I’d ever be able to forget you again.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. “Sorry again.”

Lance just shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. It made Keith’s heart hurt.

Lance pointed to his room. “Well, if that’s all you have to say. I’m going to go and take myself a well-deserved nap.” He smiled at Keith, and it looked pained. “You owe me for lying, just so you know. Like washing my lion or something.” 

Keith owed him so much more than that. 

“Consider it done.”

When Lance turned to head into his room, Keith couldn’t stand the flicker of heartbreak that took over his face when he thought Keith couldn’t see him anymore. 

“Actually, Lance I…” He trailed off, not really knowing what he could say to fix this. The damage was already done. Again. 

“Yeah?” Lance asked. There was a hint of something hopeful in his tone, but Keith couldn’t. He’d already chickened out. 

“Sleep well,” was all he said. 

As soon as the door slid shut between them, Keith stumbled back into his room. He didn’t even turn his lights on as he curled up on his bed and choked down his sobs. He refused to cry. He forced down every choked off breath and brushed away every tear that threatened to fall. 

He didn’t deserve to cry. Not now. Not after all he’d done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry that there’s more angst it seems like i can’t help myself 
> 
> idk if anyone is paying this much attention but there is a difference between how lance and keith remember their past lives. not the content, that’s the same, but the way their conecta to themselves in their own pasts. keith is more personal in his memories, and lance has a little bit of distance from his past self. this has nothing else to do with anything other than how they remember. i’m more like lance. sometimes when i remember things it’s like it’s happening to another person. i was taking to my best friend a while ago and she about how i remember things and she said that she doesn’t feel at all disconnected from her memories. idk if this is just a personal thing or remnants of childhood dissociation but i decided to portray how they connected to their past selves as different since they are different people
> 
> tell me what you think!!!


	10. Chapter 10

In the next life, Keith’s childhood was mostly a blur.

He couldn’t much remember his parents, he couldn’t remember if they had been good or bad. He couldn’t remember having any siblings, and he couldn’t remember not having siblings. He couldn’t remember if they were rich or poor, farmers or merchants, crooks or clergy.

The first clear memory of that life was of the way that crisp military jacket fitted onto his shoulder. 

He couldn't remember what he’d been feeling when he put it on, but the buttons had shined and he’d had a brief thought that it might attract the seagulls. 

The memories of his previous life, one of piracy and freedom, hung over him as he marched around with that heavy musket clenched tight in his shaky hands, but he didn’t let them linger. He had already enlisted by the time they had all settled into place, so there was little he could do about it even if he’d wanted to. 

He was young when he joined the militia, younger than most, but his fellow soldiers respected him. Partly because he was more competent than most of the other young soldiers were and partly because he respected them back. He didn’t have a problem following orders, taking commands, knowing his place. He had bigger things to worry about than defying authority, like finding his soulmate. 

He craved his soulmate in this life. Craved like he hadn’t before. It startled him how impatient he was to meet them in this life. He’d always been anxious for them before, but he almost couldn’t sleep for longing. 

He spent his days marching, following orders, laughing, drinking, trembling every time he had to pull that trigger until the day he finally found them. 

Until the day he found her. 

There had been rumors. Little whispers brought in by the wind of a witch who craved the taste of the blood of men. Those rumors were followed by whispers of truth. A murderer. A woman who hunted men down and killed them indiscriminately. There were stories of men found in their beds with their throat slit or in a ditch with a sword wound in their belly. It was a different man every time, a blacksmith, a bishop, a schoolteacher, a farmer. The whispers were always changing, never consistent, easy to dismiss. Then those whispers were followed by commands from superiors to take care of her. 

No one had really believed she was real until they were ordered to hunt her down. 

Then, they were told the truth, the truth of a woman who had killed and killed and killed again. A woman who had been killing since she was a child, who had a vendetta or a demon possessing her. She destroyed families and communities with no regard to wives and children left behind in the wake of her brutality. 

She was like a ghost story, it seemed like she would appear out of nowhere and disappear back to nothing. They say she had fire for eyes and a sword dyed red with the blood of all her victims. 

Then he found her. 

It was an accident, really. Random chance, but he knew it was that woman the moment he saw the sabre at her side. 

He raised his musket, finger trembling on the trigger, fear filling his chest. And then she turned. 

Her eyes were that same dazzling blue that they’d always been. 

Of course. Of course it was her. 

His hands went slack around his gun an instant before she lunged. It fell to the ground between them as she pressed her sword against the apple of his throat. 

He stared at her, still trembling as her eyes bore into his, calculating, full of passion and something like rage. He was trying to wrap his mind around what was happening, but it had happened so suddenly. 

“Could you have done it?” She asked. Her voice was harsh, desperate in a commanding way.

With the sword at his throat pressing in just so slightly harder, he realized that perhaps his life depended on his answer. 

But he didn’t understand what she was asking. 

“What?”

Her eyes burned brighter. “Could you have pulled the trigger even after you knew it was me?”

His heart took a plunge in his chest at the thought that she would even consider that he was capable of that. 

“I wouldn’t. I _couldn’t_!” He shook his head to emphasize what he’s said, and it made her sword press deeper. 

He felt a small trickle of blood make its way down the column of his neck, but making sure she knew he wasn’t capable of that was more important than a little pain. 

She pulled back slightly, though whether it was because she noticed that she’d cut him or trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her he didn’t know. 

“But you would have if it wasn’t me?”

He brushed his fingers over the small wound in his neck and they came back streaked with blood.

He would have done it if it wasn’t her. He was good at following orders and the rumors of her killings had scared him more than a little. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe?” He answered. 

She bared her teeth at him, and it made her look wild. Her hair was matted and cut jagged, her face was dirty, she looked feral and powerful, and it made his heart leap in his chest. 

“How could you?” She asked. She looked angry. “Don’t you know what I do?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

His voice was filled with false confidence when he spoke. “I know enough. I know you kill innocents. I know--”

Her sword was back on him in a flash. 

“You know _nothing_! Innocents!” She said it with such disdain, such derision that it made him shudder. “I protect those who no one else will protect. I protect those who suffer at the hands of those supposed innocents. I protect those who suffer like I did!”

She pressed forward while she spoke and he was forced to step back until his back was pressed against the cold stone wall. 

She continued, not giving him a chance to speak. 

“I know you remember what that kind of helplessness feels like. How can you condemn me for this?” 

Her face was so close to his that he could feel the breath that hissed out with every word she spoke. 

There was never anything in him that suggested he not believe what she’d said. He’d known her for so long, known her almost as well as he’d known himself. If she believed that what she was doing was justified, he believed her without question. He trusted her without hesitation. 

“I didn’t know.” 

It was all he could think to say. He hadn’t known. All the information he’d had were from the rumors and what his superiors had told him. He was kicking himself now for believing them.

“They told me you were a killer, a murderer. Nothing else.” 

She searched his eyes, and he prayed that she would believe him. She seem to buy his explanation as she relaxed a little away from him, pressing less intently. 

“Well, now that you know what they are and what I am, are you going to join me?”

He was shocked by her words, even though he should have predicted them.

“I...I can’t,” he said. His mind was racing. Everything was happening so suddenly, and he couldn’t think.

Her eyes lit up with that same fury as earlier. 

“Can’t what? Let me go? Can’t abandon the very soldiers who call me a villain for protecting the people they terrorize? Can’t keep people from suffering at the hands of those with power? If you can’t do that, then I never knew you at all.” 

His heart seized in his chest as her words echoed through the alleyway. He knew she was right. He knew that he wasn’t going to take her in, see her hanged. He also knew that he wasn’t going to let her leave without him. 

The silence dragged on, and she finally backed away from him and sheathed her sword. 

“Either follow me now or never see me again. Your choice.”

He watched as she turned around with a flourish and walked away from him. 

He didn’t even hesitate, he just started unbuttoning his military jacket. By the time she’d turned back to face him, he was shucking the coat from his shoulders to drop on the ground beside his musket. There was something that was almost a smile teasing her lips and triumph in her eyes. 

He couldn’t help the feeling of joy that coursed through him at that smile as he jogged over to her side. 

“I’m on your side, always.”

He hoped she could hear just how much he meant those words. 

She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, and it made his heart sing. It was undeniably fond. 

She patted the sword at her side and looked over at him with a sly quirk to her lips. 

“Do you remember how to use one of these or do you need to go back and grab that musket?”

He shoved her back. 

“If I remember correctly, I was better than you.”

Her laugh was like music to his ears. It made his heart flutter. 

“Well, you’re probably rusty,” she said. 

They were the closest they’d ever been. Something about this life, maybe their common enemy, maybe it was the amount of time they spent together with no one else around, maybe it was fighting for the same cause. Whatever it was, they were close, they were the farthest from rivals they’d been since the first life. 

They worked together well, they knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and the ones that were new to this life, they learned. There was something so natural about their falling together that it almost took his breath away. It was reminiscent of their last life, but there was something more feral to this, more primal, like it was the two of them against everyone else. 

They made a name for themselves. Well, she made a name for herself and he worked by her side.

They were still rivals, she always reminded him of that, but she was less focused on that in this life. She had a goal and nothing, not even their age old rivalry would get in her way. 

When the militia finally caught up to them, they were taken together. He had the chance to get away. She had looked at him as they dragged her away and begged him to run, but he didn’t even resist when the soldiers came for him. Maybe it was selfish of him. He could have stayed, could have helped so many more people, continued what they were doing. 

He expected her to be angry that he had given up like that, but he could see relief behind the fire in her eyes. 

As they stood at the gallows, the cold wind biting through the thin shirt he wore, he turned to her. 

She looked regal standing there, fury maring her features, confident even in the face of the noose. 

He spoke before he’d even formed the words in his head. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

His heart raced as she angled her head to look at him. Her eyes shined in the sunlight. 

_I love you._

He sighed. Now wasn’t the time. They would have another life and he could tell her then. 

He reached out a hand to grab hers. 

“Nevermind,” he said. She didn’t return his smile, but she didn’t take her eyes off him. “I’ll tell you next time.”

She squeezed their linked hands and faced back to the waiting crowd. 

She really looked magnificent. 

Her eyes didn’t lose that righteous fury until the rope was pulled taut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go! another one. we’re getting close to the end so i hope y’all are enjoying this! 
> 
> tell me what you think!!!


	11. Chapter 11

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. _

Over and over in his head like a mantra, like a drumbeat keeping time, steady as his heartbeat. 

_I can’t. I can’t. I can’t._

Over and over, a coward’s response. He was scared. Scared of what would happen if he did tell Lance everything, scared of what would happen if he didn’t. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. _

It was everything. It consumed him, these thoughts urging him, begging him, commanding him to just tell the truth. He was constantly distracted by that litany in his head. He wasn’t even hiding it well. Shiro had already confronted him about it more than once, and Pidge was giving him funny looks every time he so much as glanced at Lance. 

He was a mess of feelings, stress, and regret, not knowing what to do. He was equal parts guilt and shame, and it was tearing him apart. He wallowed and moped and tried to pretend everything was okay until he almost couldn’t stand it. 

It was kind of okay until there was a mission that deserved his full attention that he wasn’t able to give. It was already a risky mission, and he ended up distracted, putting himself in more danger than he should have. 

Everything turned out okay, they completed the mission, everyone made it back safe, but it was a stupid mistake, and he was surrounded when he landed back in the hangar, hugs and scoldings. It was overwhelming, and he couldn’t bring himself to look in all their concerned faces when he knew that this was all his fault anyway. 

He begged off, claiming that he just needed a shower and bed, but what he really wanted was to be left alone to mope and try somehow to ignore that never-ending mantra in his head. 

_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. _

When he got out of the shower, Lance was waiting in front of his door for him. Keith’s stomach swooped, and his heart stopped for an instant before it started beating an erratic rhythm, so hard he was almost afraid Lance could hear it from where he stood. 

“Can we talk?”

Lance looked nervous, and that, combined with his words, made Keith’s breath hitch in his chest.

Of course he couldn't just run away from this forever.

His whole body felt numb as he led Lance into the room and ushered him to sit on his bed with him. 

“What’s up?”

Keith was almost afraid his voice wouldn’t work, but it came out, not that he could hear it through the ringing in his ears. 

Lance sighed, not put out or frustrated, just a sigh. Keith could see his hands trembling, and it made Keith want to hide his own in case they were shaking too. 

“Keith,” Lance started. He looked determined, but his voice cracked. His face was turned away, staring at the ground, and his ears were burning red, but he continued speaking. “Keith, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time.”

Keith didn’t think his voice would work if he tried to say anything, so he stayed quiet and just let Lance speak.

Lance fiddled with the edge of his jacket, and Keith longed to reach out and put a hand over his, but he refrained, not wanting to expose how much his own hands were definitely shaking. 

“Okay, I’m just going to say it, because if I don’t get it out now, I don’t think I ever will.”

Keith gulped at those words, braced for the worst, aching for the best. 

He didn’t know what he wanted Lance to say. _I know you’ve been pretending_ or _You’re a liar_ or _I love you_ or _I know what you’ve been doing and I forgive you._

He was just as desperate to hear Lance’s next words as he was dreading what they might be. 

Lance turned towards him. 

“I like you.” 

Keith’s breath caught in his chest, but Lance continued. 

“Like a lot. Like, romantically. I know this is kind of sudden. Honestly, I never in a million years thought I would be here right now saying this to you.” He took a breath. “I know I used to hate you a lot and I acted really weird adn mean to you for a long time, but I had to say it. It felt wrong keeping this from you.”

Keith’s mind was completely blank, overrun with too many conflicting emotions. 

Lance took a shaky breath, and he looked like he was bouncing between scared and hopeful. 

“So…?” Lance prompted when Keith didn’t say anything. 

Keith couldn’t help but smile. This was what he’d wanted for forever, since that first life. This was the only thing missing from their centuries together, the missing piece. He wanted to laugh, and he wanted to cry. 

He was barely aware of what was going on outside of his euphoric joy, but he didn’t miss the way Lance’s eyes flickered down to his lips. It made Keith’s heart leap in his chest, there wasn’t a force in the universe that could have kept him from leaning forward, one thought in his mind: _Lance._

When their lips brushed, soft and hesitant, finally finally finally, another thought broke through, the same thought he’d been fending off for weeks. 

_Tell him. _

And Keith couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

He pulled back faster than he’d done just about anything else in his life and then jumped to his feet. He stumbled away from the bed, hand clamped over his mouth. He could feel tears pricking his eyes as he stared at Lance. 

“I can’t,” he whispered. His voice was harsh, raspy. “I’m sorry.”

The way Lance’s face fell made Keith feel like a monster. 

Lance crossed his arms over his chest and slumped forward in defeat, and Keith hated himself for it. He hated himself even more when Lance’s lip started to wobble despite the way he bit down on it to try to get it to stop. 

“It’s okay, I get it. Sorry if I pressured you or--”

In his panic, it never even occurred to Keith that Lance would interpret it wrong. 

“No!” He yelled, desperate for Lance to understand that it wasn’t him it was Keith. “It’s not like that.” 

He didn’t know what to say. He knew that this was the time to confess what he’d done, but that didn’t stop him from being terrified of what Lance would say. 

He had to say something.

“I can’t do this because I’ve been lying to you.”

Lance’s eyes widened, but all he said was, “About what?”

All at once, Keith’s legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees. He was trembling so hard that it felt like he might just fall to pieces. He buried his face in his hands, not wanting to see the look on Lance’s face. He couldn’t say anything, though. It was like the words were stuck in his chest, so he sat there and shook his head back and forth. 

He didn’t hear Lance move, but suddenly there was an arm over his shoulders. It was warm. He hadn’t expected the gesture, but he it was a comfort anyway. 

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Just tell me.”

Keith finally looked up and met Lance’s gaze. His heart hurt over the fact that, even now, Lance was trying to comfort him. He didn’t understand how much Keith had messed up.

“No, it is that bad. It’s the worst thing I could have ever done to you.”

Lance was desperately searching his eyes, like he could divine what Keith was going to say. “Tell me, please.” His voice was choked, heavy with some kind of emotion Keith couldn’t place. 

Keith just searched Lance’s eyes in return, looking for anything that might tell him that Lance wouldn’t hate him for this. 

His voice came out in a whisper when he finally spoke, and his heart was beating so fast, he thought it might just beat right out of his chest. 

“I...I remember.”

He looked down before he could see the look on Lance’s face, and he continued before he could say anything. 

“I remember everything. The beach, the—the way we died on that mountain, that time we were tied together in the woods. I remember that you wanted to live in the stars and how good you were at sailing. I-" Keith's breath hitched in his chest. "I remember how we ran from the military men together, and I remember riding side by side. I remember everything, I remember all of it, every life, every death. _I remember you._”

Once he’d blurted it all out, he buried his face in his hands again and braced himself for Lance’s reaction. 

And he waited.

And waited. 

The silence of the room was oppressive, like it would overtake them completely. 

Nothing could have prepared Keith for the arms that wrapped around him and dragged him over towards Lance. Lance pulled him into his lap and hugged Keith close to his chest.

Keith didn’t know what was going on at first, but the instant he was settled in, something in him broke. Everything that he’d been feeling in these past weeks, months, since he’d met Lance’s eyes across that crowd came spilling out of him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the desperate way he sobbed into Lance’s chest. 

He couldn’t do anything but cry and whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” in between the hitches in his chest. 

He held onto Lance with a tight grip, like he was desperate that Lance would let him go. He kind of thought Lance might, but he just gripped Keith back just as tightly. 

Lance’s voice shook when he finally spoke. 

"I'm still mad, like, I am so fucking mad I don't know what to do with myself, and I am probably going to avoid you for like a whole day at least. And Hunk is probably not going to talk to you for a whole week because I'm definitely going to vent all this to him."

Then Lance took a very deep breath. "I am like also so relieved." 

Keith could feel it where his ear was pressed against Lance’s chest when he let out a weak shaky laugh. "Don't you ever do that to me again, okay? This really messed me up. I thought I was going crazy."

Keith just gripped him harder. He knew he’d hurt Lance with this, and he didn’t know how he’d ever make up for it. He just kept saying, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

After a little bit, Keith didn’t know how long, Lance shook his shoulder to get him to stop.

"Why?" Lance rasped out. He sounded desperate, and it hurt to hear that, especially since Keith knew it was his fault. "Why would you? Just...why?"

Keith didn't look up, he kept his face firmly planted, too scared to see the expression on Lance’s face just yet.

"I was tired of how we were,” Keith continued, his voice muffled by Lance’s chest. “In every life we were always fighting, always yelling and hitting. Even when we got along there was that stupid rivalry and ugh! I hated it! I've always hated it, but it was how we always did stuff, so I didn't know how to stop it. I figured if I didn't play along, if I didn't remember you, we'd have to change somehow. It would have to be different,"

He could feel it when Lance shook his head. "Why?" He asked again, there was so much emotion in that one word. 

And Keith was scared again. He’d gotten the awful weight of that secret off his chest, but he didn’t know if this one would be welcome anymore. Maybe before he told Lance he remembered, but now he didn’t know. Sure, Lance seemed to be taking it better than Keith could have ever guessed, but how could Lance still want to be with Keith after he’d put him through so much? 

So he didn’t say anything. He curled closer to Lance, desperate to hold onto this feeling before he ruined it. 

"Keith, why did you do this?" Lance pulled away. "I think I deserve to know."

And he did. He deserved that much at least. 

Keith felt his breath hitch in his chest, and then he mumbled out, "Because I'm in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time."

He’d said the words so quietly, but he knew Lance heard them anyway by the way he jerked backwards. He fell back onto his elbows, and knocked Keith out of his lap.

This was the reaction Keith was waiting for, so he just curled in around himself, dreading what was to come. 

"How long?" It came out as a broken whisper. 

Keith didn’t say anything. How could he? This was the last secret he had to tell, and he was holding on to it as tight as he could. 

Lance repeated the question, louder this time. His voice cracked, it was so full of emotion. “How long?”

So Keith just blurted it out. 

"Since the first one. Since I saw you that first time on the beach."

Lance's eyes desperately searched Keith's face, and Keith was sure every emotion he had was plastered there for him to see, 

"What did you say? No, it can’t—I don’t believe you. "

At that, Keith felt fresh tears break free from his lashes and trickled down his face.

He didn’t believe him?

"Why would I lie about this?" 

Lance was shaking his head in disbelief, like he was trying to make sense of it all. "But this entire time...?"

It was all Keith could do to give a small nod as he sniffled and wiped the sleeve of the jacket across his cheeks.

He looked up to find that Lance’s eyes were welling up with tears, too, and it made Keith want to cry harder.

"No fucking way."

Keith flinched back like he'd been struck.

He could tell Lance was trying to make sense of things, could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. He knew Lance wasn’t just going to say _I love you_ back, but it still hurt to know that he seemed to have changed his mind from what he’d confessed to earlier. 

"I know you said you liked me before, but that was just Keith. That was before you knew that I remember. I know this isn't what you wanted, but it's how I feel. You can just ignore it if like you always have. I can deal with it..." He let his voice trail off with another sniffle.

He watched as Lance lifted himself up to a sitting position. 

There was that horrible silence again before Lance spoke. 

"I'm not mad, just rethinking."

Keith’s heart leapt in his chest, and then Lance made a face. 

"Well, I _am_ mad. I am so so so mad. I think I’m angrier than anyone in the universe has ever been, but just not about this.” 

Keith deflated a little bit, but kept listening intently. 

Lance paused and then continued speaking. "I-we were rivals. We've always been rivals. You're my arch nemesis until now we—"

Keith wasn’t going to let Lance think he had ever been pushing for that rivalry. He interrupted Lance with a noise. "I never felt that way. That was you, all you."

Keith didn’t say anything else about it, so there was another moment of silence before Lanc spoke again. 

"I think I need some time to think about this.”

Keith couldn’t do anything but nod his head as Lance got up and stumbled through the door.

He sat there on the floor for a long while, not moving, not doing much of anything but letting his mind race. 

Lance knew now. 

He knew and he hadn’t rejected Keith, not exactly. Keith still didn’t know where they stood, and it made him feel shaky inside and out. 

Lance knew what Keith had done, and there was no going back, Keith would just have to deal with the consequences. 

That scared him as much as it made him hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so close to the end!! 
> 
> i just wanted to say that i appreciate each and every one of the comments i get. i’m not good at responding to them but i see all of them and each one puts a smile on my face! thanks so much
> 
> tell me what you think


	12. Chapter 12

In the next life, Keith could remember craving adventure. 

He couldn’t really remember much about his family, but he could remember sitting in front of the fireplace as his mother read from the big storybook they kept on the mantle. They’s been grand tales, knights, quests, princesses, and dragons, fantastical and so far out of reach from his little world. 

He could remember that his family were farmers. They weren’t rich by any means, but they were well off. That came with a price, however, and that price was hard work. Keith could remember going into the fields early every morning, he could remember the aching muscles, the searing heat, and the feel of grit in his boots. 

He wasn’t quite sure what in him made him want to leave, but when he got old enough, he set out on his own. Maybe it was that craving for adventure, maybe it was because his memories fell into place and he knew that there was more out there. He didn’t have a plan though, he just knew he wanted something more. 

He traveled for a while, finding adventure where he could, trying to live his life to the fullest when eventually found his way to a small town right at the base of the biggest mountain he’d ever seen. 

It didn’t take him long to find work. There was a man looking for some help on his ranch, and apparently he looked strong enough to be able to handle it. It was good work, and he learned fast. The work was hard at first, he may have looked strong, but he hadn’t been out to work that hard in years, but once he got a handle on things, he enjoyed his time there. The man’s wife was kind, if a little stern, and their kids looked at him with stars in their eyes. He had a roof over his head, a warm meal every night, and steady work.

As time passed, however, he was still missing something. He was itching for something more. He didn’t know if it was more adventure or his soulmate, but it was a strong enough feeling that he’d almost made up his mind to move on again. 

Then the man who ran the farm was killed. It was some freak accident, sudden, tragic. The man had left his young children and a pregnant wife behind in his passing, and it hadn’t felt right for him to leave so soon after it happened. He decided to at least stay until they could find some new help around the place. 

It took a couple of months, but one chilly night, right on the cusp of winter, the barn door creaked open after he had already settled in for the night. It could have been one of the kids sneaking out, it could have been the wind, it could have been any number of things. What stepped through the door, however, was a boy. 

The boy was shivering, he could tell that even from his vantage point in the loft, and he shut the door quickly behind him, probably to block out the cold wind that he’d let in. Cradled between both his hands was a bowl of stew, and in the crook of his arm was one of the big blankets the missus kept at the big house. He looked skinny, but a few weeks of hard work would put some muscle on him. 

He looked back at the little figure he was carving in his hands. He didn’t want the other boy to know he’d ben looking him over. “You the new help the missus said might be coming?” 

Out of his periphery, he could see the boy look up at him. He jolted a little like he hadn’t realized that there was anyone up in the loft.

“I am,” he replied as he started climbing up the ladder to the loft. It took him longer than it should because of how full his hands were, but eventually he made it all the way up. He plopped down across from him and looked up, his mouth open to say something. 

His eyes were that same blue he’d been missing, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the smile that spread over his face. Finally. 

A similar smile broke out over the other’s face, and his soulmate didn’t hesitate before scooching over, soup, blanket, and all, to sit right next to him. It was nice, familiar and friendly in a way that they didn’t usually have. 

“We can catch up later, but I’m so hungry, I have to eat this right now or I might just die,” his soulmate said, the spoon already halfway into his mouth before he’d even finished speaking. 

It was pitiful to see how the other boy was shivering, teeth chattering even as he tried to shovel spoonfuls of food into his mouth. He looked so sad, hungry, shivering, curled up under that scratching blanket, and so he took pity on his soulmate and scooted over to put an arm around him, to share their warmth. 

“Jeez, you’re freezing!” The words were wrenched out of his mouth without his permission, but they were true. It made him wonder how long the other boy had spent out in the cold. How long had he been out there looking for somewhere warm?

His soulmate made an offended noise around his mouthful of soup. He swallowed the bite he had in his mouth before he turned to glare at him. “It’s not like I can help it, it’s freezing outside!”

That made sense, it got pretty cold even in the barn, and the wind wasn’t blowing in here. That got him to thinking. “I hope you’re ready to share body heat in this barn. It’s a little drafty, and it will be so much warmer if we just decide now that we’re going to sleep cuddled up together.”

It wasn’t entirely for utility. It’s not like it would be a chore to sleep so close to his soulmate. Not that he would do anything untoward, just being close was nice. 

His soulmate leveled a look at him like he could tell what he was thinking, and it made a blush warm his ears. 

“Oh don’t give me that! It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve ever had to cuddle.”

There were no more arguments after that, and by the time they both layed down for the night, both blankets spread over them, curled up on the hay, neither of them were even the slightest bit cold. 

He had been right, his soulmate learned quick. He seemed eager, and with good meals and hard work, he bulked up until he looked like a real worker. It didn’t take him long, however, to realize that his soulmate wasn’t very adept at ranch work. He wasn’t bad by any means of the word, there was just something in him that didn’t quite fit well with what he was doing. 

It almost made him want to make his soulmate quit before he hurt himself, but they eventually figured out a system that utilized both their strengths, and it was good. 

They worked well together, so well, in fact, that the woman who owned the place offered to have them stay on and help her expand the place. 

With his soulmate there, he wasn’t really missing what he’d been missing before, and they both agreed. 

Of course times weren’t perfect. He and his soulmate still bickered and fought. They teased each other and tried to outdo one another at every turn. Sometimes he thought that maybe this could be the life, maybe here he could confess his feelings. His soulmate and him got along most of the time, they laughed and joked together. They weren’t afraid of affection or closeness.

But even still, his soulmate would bring up that stupid rivalry, and the words would hit his ears like a curse, like someone had raised their hand to hit him. 

_Just one more,_ he thought. _One more and we will be close enough. One more and he’ll stop with this stupid rival business._

They lived a good life on the ranch. They inherited it from the woman who was in charge, her children having no interest in it. They ran it up until they grew too old to be able to handle the work. 

When they were too old to be able to stand up straight, bodies sore from years of hard work and broken bones, the man thought to himself, _next time things will be different._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long. had some INSANE writers block and just couldn’t sit down and write 
> 
> tell me what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

The first thing Keith did was go to Shiro. 

Well, actually, the first thing Keith did was lay in his bed and cry until he fell asleep. Once he woke up, he went to Shiro. 

He knew Shiro could tell something was wrong as soon as the door slid open. He ushered him inside with gentle words and gentler hands. It made Keith’s skin crawl to be treated so delicately. He didn’t know if he deserved this kind of care. 

When Shiro pulled him into his arms, Keith probably would have broke down again if he hadn’t already cried himself out. He was trembling, though. All he could do was stand there and shake in Shiro’s arms until he’d gathered himself enough to speak. 

“I told him.”

Keith was honestly surprised his voice didn’t crack. 

He could feel the way Shiro took a deep breath before responding. 

“How did he take it?”

Keith wondered if he was worried more about how Keith was doing or about whether or not they’d be able to form Voltron now, but he struck that thought away as soon as it crossed his mind. 

Keith pulled back. 

“Honestly, he took it better than I could have ever hoped,” he said, moving to go sit on the edge of Shiro’s bed. 

Shiro joined him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Did he? He’d come right here, but he didn’t really want to talk. He just wanted Shiro to know that he’d finally told Lance. Maybe he’d want to talk after Lance had some time to think, but right now, all he wanted to do was hide and think. 

He shook his head, and got up to leave. If Shiro tried to stop him, Keith didn’t know. He was out of the door before he heard anything, and no one knocked on Keith’s door after he’d curled up under the desk in the corner of his room. 

As the night dragged on, Keith did a lot of thinking, and he did a lot of crying. 

He let himself wonder what Lance was doing, but only for a little bit. He wondered if Lance had cried or if he’d gone straight to Hunk and vented all of his anger. Keith was honestly surprised that Hunk hadn’t come knocking at his door to murder Keith for what he’d done to Lance. 

At some point, Keith had dozed off, and was jolted awake on a sob with half-formed memories of a dream slipping over his mind. He didn’t remember what he dreamed about. He didn’t often remember his dreams, but this one left him with the feeling of having lost something. No, not something, Lance. 

Half of him wanted to run right now to Lance’s room and check on him, but the rest of him knew that he would not be welcome right now.

So he just curled up tighter and tried not to cry again. 

He spent the rest of the night like that, thinking and overthinking, dreaming and crying and waking and hurting, until a soft knock came at his door. 

He scrambled out from under the desk so fast, that he ended up knocking his chair over and scattering everything that had been on top of it onto the floor. 

Was it Lance?

His heart was beating so hard that he could hear each hummingbird beat in the hollow of his throat. It dropped when he opened the door to reveal Shiro. 

“Breakfast,” he said with what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile, but to Keith looked more like a grimace. 

Keith had the thought that maybe he should have Shiro bring it to him here so that he didn’t have to see anyone. 

As if sensing Keith’s thoughts, Shiro said. “You can’t stay cooped up in here forever.”

Keith didn’t even bother trying to make himself look presentable. He was sure that if he looked in the mirror, he might just cry all over again, so he followed Shiro to where they ate with heavy feet and a heavier heart. 

Hunk and Pidge were already there when they walked in, and Keith braced himself for whatever Hunk might do.

“Hey Shiro, Kei—” He had turned to them as they entered and froze when he looked up at Keith.

Keith braced himself for the worst, but all Hunk said was, “Woah, Keith, you look terrible, you okay buddy?”

He flinched back at that too, and didn’t answer. He could see Shiro shake his head to them out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored that and took his seat. The seat beside him was so empty it was like he could hear it, but Lance was always late to breakfast, so he tried not to focus too much on that. 

When Lance walked in, Keith had to clench his fists in his lap so that he didn’t jump right up and go to him. 

His hands were trembling as Lance walked over to his normal seat, and he grit his teeth against a hurt noise that tried to escape him when Lance picked up his plate and walked to the other side of the table to sit by Pidge. 

Everyone else had fallen silent, and Keith could tell that they were glancing between him and Lance. It probably wasn’t hard to see the tension between the two. Keith just stared at his plate and tried not to do something so humiliating as burst into tears right there. 

He risked a glance up to Lance’s face, and startled to find that Lance’s eyes were on him. A rush of emotions swept through him and he fought back another wave of tears. 

He broke his gaze from Lance’s, the only thought in his mind that he needed to get out of there. 

He mumbled some excuse as he pushed from the table and fled the room, feet taking him straight to the training deck. 

He was sloppy as he practiced, hands still shaking, breath short, eyes not quite focusing both from lack of sleep and the tears that were coming and going. 

He tried his hardest not to think, and it was kind of working. He got lost in his movements, however sloppy and unpracticed they were. 

He was completely thrown off when Lance’s voice called out across the room. 

"I know I taught you better than that.”

Keith stumbled as he spun around, almost sure that he’d imagined it. Just as his eyes locked onto Lance, Lance shouted.

"End training sequence!" 

Keith couldn’t break his gaze from Lance even as he cursed himself for breaking such an obvious rule of fighting. 

He stared and Lance stared, and it seemed like maybe neither of them would say anything. The silence felt suffocating, so Keith decided to break it.

"You did.”

Lance apparently had forgotten what he’d asked because he cocked his head in confusion. 

Keith suddenly felt so exposed all at once. He cleared his throat and fidgeted where he stood. 

"You did teach me better."

Silence again, but this time, Lance broke it. 

"Okay, so rumors of our rivalry may have been wildly exaggerated. Mainly by me." 

Keith couldn’t help the way his heart raced as his tired mind registered those words. 

Lance continued before he could say anything. 

"I got to thinking back, and maybe you were right, something did need to change."

His heart raced, and nothing could have stopped the smile that broke over his face. 

And then Lance continued.

"But this was not the way to do it. You should have just talked to me. I would have realized eventually."

He met Keith’s gaze, and he looked more serious than Keith had ever seen him in this life. 

"This really hurt me, okay. It was messed up and I still haven't completely forgiven you for it."

Keith’s smile fell, and all he could do was nod. 

"For what it's worth, I'm so, so sorry." The breath he took was shaky. "It's just, I figured that since you felt so strongly about us being rivals that you wouldn't care that much."

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he spoke, almost scared for Lance’s response.

"Well, I do care," Lance said. "I've always cared about you."

Something like relief crashed through him, and he smiled again. 

"I've done a lot of thinking," Lance continued, "and I just need to say this."

Here it came. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for what Lance would say. He didn’t look away from those eyes as Lance started speaking. 

"What I said yesterday in your room, before you told me you remembered. That still stands. I like you." The laugh Lance let out was strained, almost hysterical, and it sent a thrill through Keith. "I probably even more than like you if I'm being honest."

And didn’t that send a bolt of electricity down Keith’s spine. 

He let out a strangled laugh and said, "Really?"

He had hoped, of course he had hoped, but having Lance say those words to him was worth more than any daydream he’d ever had about this. 

"Yes, really, and if you aren't opposed to it, I would really like to kiss you right now."

Keith wasn’t sure how he managed not to bowl Lance over in his desperate scramble over to him. He stopped when they were toe to toe and he lifted his hands to cradle Lance’s face. As gently and reverently as he deserved. 

He leaned in slowly, so slowly that it hurt, but wanting to give Lance any opportunity to back away if he didn’t want this. 

When they were so close that Keith could feel Lance’s breath fan over his cheek, he said, "You have no idea how happy I am right now."

Lance huffed out a laugh just as their lips pressed together. 

Keith could have cried at how perfect it was. 

Lance’s skin was so soft, and his lips were gentle and hesitant against Keith’s, almost trembling. 

Keith couldn’t help but pull Lance closer to himself, one of his hands moving to the back of Lance’s neck so that he could angle his head to deepen the kiss. 

When Lance’s arms snaked around him, Keith, he all but melted. 

Their kiss did go much past the press of their lips, but when they pulled back, they were both panting. 

Neither of them pulled back far, and that sent another thrill down Keith’s spine. 

Lance nuzzled his nose against Keith’s

"Just so you know," he said, "Hunk is probably going to kill you for making me cry so much."

Keith was so full of love that he could burst, and all he could do was laugh. 

"I don't blame him. I kind of want to kill me for that too."

He smiled at the way Lance’s arms tightened around him.

"Don't do that, then I wouldn't get to kiss you until next time."

Keith couldn’t help but press another kiss to those lips. 

"I love you. I've always loved you,” he whispered when he pulled back again.

Lance grinned and Keith couldn’t help but return it with a happy smile of his own. 

"I love you too. I think maybe I always did."

And they were kissing again and it was everything that Keith had ever hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i thought i’d already posted this last chapter! i just looked back over my old fics and realized that i still had the last chapter to do. ah fuck I can’t believe i’ve don’t this. i’m the worst and i promise i’ll go throw myself into a pit now to make up for this. please don’t hate me
> 
> here’s the last chapter FINALLY. i hope everyone enjoyed it and enjoyed this story. i am right in the. middle of another project right now so if i do those spin off stories about past lives it won’t be for a while 
> 
> (also if you liked this story and are into mdzs or the untamed or whichever version, i’ve been writing quite a few fics for that so go check them out if you want)
> 
> thanks so much for making it all the way through i love all my readers! tell me what you think I love to hear from all of you

**Author's Note:**

> I know I talked about writing little stories of their past lives and I still plan on doing that, but I felt like it needed Keith's side of the story. 
> 
> This will not update as fast as my last story but i should get out at least one chapter a week


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